


"The Rebel’s Secret Passion" by B.S. Kysses

by andabatae



Series: Canonverse Fics [6]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Book Club, Canonverse Romance Novel Shenanigans, Comedy, Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Humor and Smut, Humor, Idk this is silly, Kylo Ren Romance Author, Kylo Ren Supreme Leader/Romance Novelist, Kylo Ren's creative process involves crying while masturbating, Pen Pals, Pining, Rey Reads Romance, Romance Novel, reylo prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19181209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: It's not like I need more WIPs, but here we are! Inspired bythis prompt."Ben uses a pen name for his smutty romance novels, but he isn't sure what to do when he finds out that his friend/crush, who doesn't know he writes, is addicted to them. For a more crack-ish angle, Rey borrows the books from Leia, who also doesn't know.""Hard mode: Make it in canon."I am not a coward, so here we go. Introducing: Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader/romance novelist. I REGRET NOTHING.





	1. Chapter 1

_Kira sprinted around the corner, then skidded to a stop. Shit. This grim durasteel corridor on the First Order’s most deadly warship, the_ Punishment _, terminated in a dead end. Or rather, a blast-proof door that could only be unlocked by someone with the proper credentials._

_“No!” She hammered on the door with her fist, nearly sobbing in terror —and, if the traitorous clenching between her legs was any indicator, excitement. _

Rey shifted in her bunk, eyes glued to the book in her hands. Kriff, whoever B.S. Kysses was, she wrote the best romance novels. Rey couldn’t _believe_ General Organa had lent this to her.

_Heavy footsteps sounded behind her. Kira whirled, pressing her back against the door as a familiar black-clad figure approached her. General Dirk Rockwell was tall, broad, and sexy, and Kira greedily stared at the bulge of his biceps, the thick trunks of his thighs, and the impressive bulge in his pants. She knew from being pressed against him in combat that he was hung like a god. His black plastoid composite armor undoubtedly hid an eight-pack._

_He smirked at her, and Kira was enraptured by his chiseled jaw and luscious hair. “We meet again, Resistance scum,” he said in a voice like sex itself._

Rey hadn’t even gotten to an intimate scene, and she was already breathing hard. Her pussy throbbed insistently, demanding manual stimulation. _Calm down_ , she told it. _At least wait until someone gets naked_. Plenty of people got off to smutty books, but normally it took actual smut to wind them up. But Rey was finding this entire story... distracting, to say the least.

The truth was that this dirty tale of a Resistance spy and a First Order general drawn together by an undeniable passion… spoke to Rey. She identified with the plucky, brave Kira and her uncontrollable desire for her worst enemy. Plus, the way B.S. Kysses described the setting was incredibly vivid, as if she had first-hand experience of a Star Destroyer, and the details about the First Order’s hierarchy were spot-on. She must have done a ton of research. Overall, it was a compelling read, but that wasn’t what made Rey shiver.

Dirk Rockwell made her shiver.

Tall, muscled, and arrogant, he was every woman’s fantasy, but since he was devoted to the First Order, he was unattainable. At least for Rey, who could never actually cross that boundary with Ky—with a hypothetical Dirk Rockwell. But Kira… Kira might be able to.

_Kira leveled a blaster at General Rockwell. “You’ll never take me alive,” she spat._

_“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he purred, and just his voice made her impossibly wet. What would his fingers do? “Because I am absolutely going to take you… and you’re going to love every second of it.”_

Rey whimpered and slid her hand into her leggings, giving in to the uncontrollable desire to masturbate. Kriff, she could just hear Dirk Rockwell’s voice now, whispering in her ear. _I’m going to take you… Don’t worry, I feel it, too… Just let go…_

Rey knew she was veering wildly off-book in a way that should cause some concern, but she couldn’t stop rubbing her clit. She closed her eyes, imagining Ky—Dirk Rockwell cornering her in a hallway with no exits. His black attire, that midnight hair— _wait_ , Dirk was blond—the plush lips and whiskey eyes...

_Please,_ Dirk whispered in her ear, soft as smoke.

Rey came with a muffled shriek, her cunt pulsing in the best orgasm she’d had in months.

#

Rey rapped on the door to General Organa’s office, nibbling her lip nervously.

“Come in,” the general called.

Rey entered and positioned herself in front of the desk in a properly formal stance. “General.”

“Rey.” The general’s eyes twinkled at her, and the older woman’s mouth tugged into a smile. “What can I do for you?”

Rey abruptly thrust out the book she’d been hiding behind her back. _The Rebel’s Secret Passion_. “I finished it.”

General Organa’s eyebrows soared. “I lent that to you last night.”

“Yes.” Rey coughed awkwardly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I just… you know. Finished. It.”

Oh R’iia, this was mortifying. Because the truth was that Rey hadn’t slept because she’d been too busy fingering herself for hours on end as she read the sordid tale of Kira and Dirk Rockwell’s forbidden love. She’d finished both herself and the book in spectacular fashion.

General Organa took the book, then replaced it on the shelf behind her desk. “Paper books are so rare,” the general mused. “I’m amazed any authors are still putting them out. The royalties can’t be that good, but her publisher doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Does… does B.S. Kysses have other books, then?” Rey tried not to sound as eager as she felt.

“Many. She’s incredibly prolific. Her first book came out a year ago—about the time you joined us—and she’s been producing a shocking amount of content since then.” The general shook her head. “I have no idea what inspired her to write so much, but I’m very happy.”

Rey licked her lips. “And are they all about Kira?” Because Rey had never felt closer to a fictional character than she did to Kira, the tough loner with a hard past who never compromised when it came to her ideals—unless, of course, when she was letting Dirk Rockwell dick her down.

Rey would never do that kind of thing, of course, but as a sex-positive feminist, she admired a heroine who embraced her desires.

“No, there’s a different hero and heroine in every book. But Kysses seems to enjoy certain themes—enemies-to-lovers, villainous heroes and strong heroines, things like that. They’re all similar in that way.” The general leaned over her desk, grinning conspiratorially. “I’m so glad I’ve finally found someone who likes romance novels! You wouldn’t believe how stuffy C-3PO gets about our mandatory book club.”

Rey blinked. “You have a book club with C-3PO?”

“And R2-D2,” the general said, “but R2 is far more open-minded about these things.”

Rey just nodded, unsure if droids were even capable of being open-minded about sex. Was that part of their programming?

“Anyway,” the general said, gathering a pile of books, “start with these. Kysses puts out about one a month, so there are more when you’re done.”

Rey blushed and gathered them in her arms, already anticipating the pleasure of taking them back to her bunk and… enjoying them. “Thank you, General Organa.”

“It’s no problem. Wars are more tedious than anyone realizes—it’s important to find joy where you can.” She winked. “And you can call me Leia.”

"Leia." Rey inclined her head in acknowledgement, clutching the books tight against her chest. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Leia chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, Rey. Romance novels are a must for any young woman. How else will you figure out what you want and what you deserve from an intimate partner?"

Given the direction of Rey's fantasies lately—a mysterious, muscular First Order member fucking her within an inch of her life—Rey didn't dare answer that. "Right." Her cheeks burned. "I'll get to it, then. The figuring out what I want." Oh, kriff, that was too much information for her military commander. "Hypothetically," Rey rushed to clarify. "Totally hypothetically. Because literature allows us to... yeah." She trailed off, dying of mortification.

Leia, to her credit, didn't seem to notice anything strange. "Off you go!" she said, shooing Rey away. "Go read that delicious book, and if you like it, you can join my book club."

Joining Leia's mandatory book club sounded awkward at best and profoundly uncomfortable at worst, so Rey just nodded. "Thank you, general. Leia. Um... I'll just be going now."

And she rushed out of the office, wondering how quickly she could be _coming_ now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... what did you think? This is a very silly prompt, so I am writing very silly content.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a glimpse into the creative mind of one B.S. Kysses, prolific romance novelist and galactic dictator.

_Deirdrey struggled in the interrogation chair, but her movements were futile. Kyben Lore had captured her, and now he was going to take what he wanted — _

Kylo scowled at the line he’d just written, then crossed it out. The calligraphy ink sank into the crisp white page like a thundercloud across a brilliant sky. His publisher kept asking him to submit his works in another format, but Kylo refused. Calligraphy was the only acceptable method for conveying the poetry in his soul.

He gazed at the paper he’d propped up on his desk. It held a simple sketch, which he’d drawn in a frenzy after the disastrous battle on Crait. Kylo wasn’t the best artist, but he’d captured some of Rey’s essence in the drawing—mostly her disdain for him. The stark black lines blurred in places where his tears had fallen on the page, but that only made it more precious to him.

When he wasn’t ruling the galaxy or writing erotica, Kylo spent a lot of time jerking off to that image and his bittersweet memories of her. The way she’d bared her teeth at him in the snow. The fury in her voice when she’d called him a monster. The way she’d come to see him on the Supremacy, and the hope in her eyes before he’d immediately clapped manacles on her wrists.

When he was close to the edge and needed the perfect memory to make him orgasm, he thought about the way she’d brushed his fingertips that one time. Sometimes he imagined her grabbing his thigh during the fight in Snoke’s throne room, instead, but only when he didn’t feel like crying while he came.

Kylo liked to cry most of the time. It felt like a true testament to the depth of his feelings when his tears mixed with his semen in his lap. Two offerings deposited at the altar of his goddess.

_Deirdrey moaned as Kyben Lore approached her. He was so big and intimidating, but she couldn’t help but want him to touch her — _

Kylo swore and threw his pen down, spattering ink everywhere. He’d written so many books, all of which were thinly-veiled depictions of his fantasies about Rey, but every time he got too close to an actual memory of her, he struggled. Fantasy could never live up to the reality of being in the same space as her.

Unfortunately, their encounters didn’t make for good fiction. _Kyben Lore interrogated her and forced open her mind, after which she hated him_ didn’t read well in a romance. Neither did _She screamed across the universe that he was a monster_. Honestly, nothing he’d done with Rey read well.

It made him feel bad. Not just bad, because Kylo always felt bad, but where Rey was concerned, everything felt so much worse. He loved her, and everything about their interactions—save the hand-touch and the thigh-touch—was devastatingly depressing because of how desperate he was for something he could never have.

_Deirdrey didn’t know why she hadn’t been strapped into an interrogation chair. She was a prisoner: shouldn’t that be expected? Instead, she sat on a comfortable couch in what looked like the living quarters of a very important person._

_The door hissed open, and a deep, seductive voice made her shiver. “Hello, thief,” the impossibly attractive Kyben Lore said. “Are you ready to confess?_

Kylo closed his eyes, already breathing heavily at the image. Rey on the black sofa in his quarters, looking over her shoulder at him with curiosity and hunger—

_“No, Lord Lore. I’ll never confess. You’ll have to force the answers out of me.”_

Kylo let out a garbled moan, then dropped the pen and rushed to the ‘fresher. He’d always liked being tidy. Once he was in the shower stall, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his aching cock. The first rub of his fist along his erect length was incredible. Kylo kicked back his head, moaning at the ceiling as he jerked himself fast and hard. “Rey,” he breathed as he worked himself. “Kriff, Rey, touch me again—”

In his mind’s eye, Rey was fighting next to him. She pressed her back against him, using his broad frame for leverage as she kicked her enemies away. Her hand wrapped around his thigh, firm and warm, the most human touch Kylo had experienced in years...

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Kylo orgasmed with a shout, jerking his hips and hand in tandem as ropes of cum shot out over the tile. He babbled desperately, a mix of her name and the things he wished he could say to her. “I need you, Rey, I love you, oh _fuck,_ help—”

When his orgasm was done, he felt a little dirty. He turned on the water, washing away the traces of his passion.

Rey would be disgusted if she knew he thought about her so carnally. It was better to channel his desire through the B.S. Kysses books. Maybe someday he would work up the courage to name her in the epigraph, but probably not. It wasn’t like she would read his writing, anyway—print books were expensive, and they appealed to a very niche audience.

He collapsed on his couch, covering his eyes with a forearm. If Rey only knew how he felt…

She would never know, though. He’d already offered her the galaxy, but Rey hadn’t realized it was a confession of his undying love. She’d rejected him brutally, cutting his heart in half just as they’d split Anakin’s lightsaber between them.

Not that any of it mattered.

Kylo Ren knew better than to expect happiness or companionship in this lifetime. He was a freak, incapable of socialization that didn’t involve Force-choking. The woman he loved to distraction hated him. And he was writing the equivalent of fan fiction about them.

The dark thoughts made him cry a little bit. Even though he’d already come, he cherished each teardrop as a marker of his devotion. He’d once encountered a culture that had collected tears for the dead in tiny jars. The practice had resonated with him, and even though the First Order had bombed that society into oblivion, he held the memory close to his heart.

“Rey,” he whispered as he gathered his tears on his fingertips, wishing he had a tear jar to dedicate to her. “You’re my muse.”

With that thought in mind, he returned to his desk, determined to do her justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This project makes me laugh so much. Hopefully you like it, too!


	3. Chapter 3

Rey closed _The Thief’s Stolen Kisses_ , placing the book on her chest as she stared at the ceiling. She’d masturbated plenty to the tense sexual scenes between Deirdrey and Kyben Lore, but the resolution had been oddly sweet, and it had left Rey teary-eyed. Kyben had abandoned his role as a magistrate in order to give Deirdrey the life she deserved, and although neither of them had known what the future might bring, they’d decided to face the unknown together.

Rey wasn’t sure why she couldn’t stop crying, but this confused emotional state wasn’t unusual. She’d spent a lifetime bottling up her emotions, so it was always hard to identify what she was feeling or why. Her emotions manifested in physical reactions she didn’t like to analyze too closely.

The door to her quarters whisked open, and her roommate, Rose, entered with Finn. The two had recently started dating, and Rey was extremely happy for them, even if she sometimes felt like the odd woman out.

“Whoa, Peanut,” Finn said upon seeing the tears on her cheeks. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” she said between sniffles. “It’s just this book…”

Rose took a look at the book in Rey’s hand, then nodded sympathetically. “B.S. Kysses kills me every time.” She gasped. “Wait, is that her newest release?”

It was. Rey had threatened a shopkeep with bodily harm to get it before it was technically on shelves. Luke wouldn’t have approved of her lightsaber usage, but Luke was some kind of disembodied entity now, so he didn’t really get a say.

Rey held it out to Rose. “Read it. It’ll wreck you. Kyben Lore is incredibly hot.”

Finn made a disgruntled noise. “Should I be worried?”

Rey glared at him. “Is your masculinity seriously so fragile that you feel threatened by an imaginary person? Because if so—”

“Rey.” Rose interjected, although she was laughing. “It’s okay, I’ll give him a proper lecture later. Finn’s still learning how to be a feminist and a secure adult human being—isn’t that right, babe?”

“Yes,” Finn grumbled, looking at the ground.

“He’ll be a convert to romance novels in no time.” Rose winked. “Speaking of romance, I’ve been wanting to set you up with this pilot—”

“No,” Rey said, sitting bolt upright in her bunk. “I refuse.”

Rose crossed her arms and glared at Rey. “You have been single for way too long, Miss Jedi. Come on, at least give it a shot.”

“I can’t.” Rey picked at the blanket over her legs, wondering how to articulate the soul-deep aversion she felt to dating at the moment. “None of them are going to be a Dirk Rockwell or a Kyben Lore, you know?”

Rose huffed out a frustrated breath. “Rey, you realize those people are fictional, right? And do you seriously want a socially maladapted murderer for your boyfriend?”

Rey flashed back to a pair of sad brown eyes and a broad, naked, heavily muscled chest. “Uhhh… no, of course not.”

“Then go on some dates, girl!” Rose smacked her in the arm, oblivious to Rey’s ongoing emotional crisis. “You’re so hot, and even if most of the dudes in the Resistance are scared of you, they’ll gladly get naked with you. Go have some fun!”

“Fun,” Rey echoed. All she could think about was a nude chest and unnaturally high-waisted trousers. All she could hear was a dark voice: _You need a teacher._

 _An orgasm teacher_ , she thought hazily. A Kylo—wait, no—Kyben Lore sort of teacher. It was truly unfortunate Kyben’s name was so similar to that of her nemesis—it made her think about the Supreme Leader more than was healthy.

Kylo would probably be just as intense in the bedroom as Kyben. That muscled frame, the sinful voice, the plush lips just made for...

“I’m going to sleep,” she announced, abruptly incapable of conversation.

Rose blinked at her. “Oh. Do you want me and Finn to—”

“No.” Rey shut her eyes and turned over. “It’s fine if you’re here. Just… maybe don’t have sex while I’m in the room?”

Rose sighed heavily. “If you insist.”

Rey lay awake for far too long, brooding over _The Thief’s Stolen Kisses_. It wasn’t just the plot—or unwelcome thoughts of Kylo—that kept her from sleeping; it was the knowledge that she’d now read the entirety of B.S. Kysses’s backlist, and she didn’t know when her next book would be coming out.

But someone certainly did...

Struck with inspiration, Rey sat bolt upright, startling Rose and Finn from whatever card game they were playing. “I’m going to write to her,” Rey announced.

“Uh, what?”

She flipped the book open to the back, and sure enough, beneath the odd author bio— _B.S. Kysses: Ruler of Many but a Slave to Love_ —was a postal address for fan mail. Real, physical mail was as unusual as a real, physical book, but B.S. Kysses seemed old fashioned. Rey wondered if she was a gray-haired grandmother, churning out filth from a retirement community on some far-flung moon.

Rey jumped off the bunk and grabbed a piece of scrap paper from her desk, then sat down to write her very first letter to B.S. Kysses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commenter Lukas+Bauer was spot-on with the guess about a fan mail relationship starting. Up next: Kylo Ren, galactic dictator and hopeless romantic, receives his very first piece of fan mail. How will our emo space boi react??
> 
> Thanks for all the comments! I love reading them. This story makes me laugh a lot, and I'm glad it's making you laugh as well. Please continue sharing your reactions with me!


	4. Chapter 4

“Therefore, it is my recommendation that we execute the dissenters immediately and publicly.”

Kylo barely absorbed General Hux’s words. He was too busy doodling in the corner of his notebook. A heart with two initials in it: _K+R_.

Silence fell over the room, and the generals seated around the conference table looked nervously at each other. Abruptly aware that something was expected of him, Kylo looked up, setting the calligraphy pen back in its pot of ink. “What was that, Hux?”

The general cleared his throat. “Supreme Leader, did you hear anything I just said?” He sounded distinctly put out.

Kylo waved a gloved hand. “Protests on Yavin 4, arrests have been made, the usual.” He paused, struck by sudden inspiration. A romance between a prisoner and her captor…

“Yes, that summarizes a small portion of the discussion we have apparently been having without you,” Hux said. “If you’re ready to actually participate in this meeting, the issue we are currently discussing is whether to keep the protestors imprisoned or execute them. I wholeheartedly recommend execution.”

Kylo scribbled a few sentences in his notebook. _Breyanna gripped the bars of her cell, staring with wide-eyed fascination at the prison overseer who stood on the other side. Loky Olos was tall and built, with a noble nose and dark, soft hair that cascaded to his shoulders. She grew wet at the thought of him touching her with those big, gloved hands — _

“Supreme Leader!”

Kylo jumped and looked up. “What is it, Hux?” he asked, irritated by the interruption to his creative process. After a few days of writer’s block, the muse had finally gifted him with inspiration again. How dare Hux interfere with high art?

The general’s cheeks were redder than his hair. “This is outrageous,” Hux said. “You’ve just been scribbling away in that ridiculous journal while the rest of us decide the fate of the galaxy!” Kylo glared at him, his knuckles whitening around his calligraphy pen, but Hux kept ranting, seemingly oblivious to the danger he was in. “With all due respect, Supreme Leader, perhaps the pressure of your position is too much for you to handle—” Hux broke off with a choked sound, scrabbling at his throat.

Kylo slowly stood, his hand extended as he intensified the Force choke. “There’s nothing I can’t handle,” he snapped. “I am the Supreme Leader, and I answer to no one!” He flung Hux into the wall, then gathered up his notebook, pen, and inkpot. “Now, I’m afraid an urgent matter requires my attention. Extremely urgent. This meeting is adjourned.”

He swept out of the room, leaving a very confused war council behind him.

#

On the way back to his quarters, Kylo succumbed to the rage that had been building in him since Hux had interrupted his writing. He ignited his lightsaber and hacked apart a console, sending sparks flying and filling the corridor with smoke. When the destruction was over, he stood panting and glaring at the ruined console. Usually he found violence soothing, but this time it hadn’t made him feel any better.

Only one thing made Kylo feel any better these days, and that was writing. Well, two things: writing and touching himself to thoughts of Rey. He stalked towards his room, determined to get some words down on his new prisoner/prison overseer romance. _The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire —_yes, that was a perfect title.

A droid whirred into his path, risking certain dismemberment. Kylo had already raised the lightsaber, preparing to hack it apart, when he saw the plain white envelope the droid was extending towards him. Written on the front in a messy, childish scribble was a name that sent Kylo’s heart racing: _B.S. Kysses._

For the first time in his writing career, Kylo had gotten fan mail. He snatched the letter out of the droid’s hand, so excited by the prospect that he decided not to chop the machine into a thousand pieces, after all. He ran towards his quarters, ripping the envelope open the moment he got inside.

_Dear B.S. Kysses,_

_Over the last two weeks, I have read every single one of your books. They’re amazing. I think my favorite is The Rebel’s Secret Passion. It must have taken courage to write a romance between a Resistance hero and First Order scum, and you’ve really made me think about how we dehumanize the other side during times of war. I say ‘we’ metaphorically, not me specifically, ha ha, it’s not like I’m a super famous war hero or anything._

_Anyway. The point is, I love your books, but now that I’ve read them all, I don’t know what to do. Do you have another book coming out soon? If so, when will it be published? What is it about? Can I read it early? Do you want to be pen pals?_

_Sorry if I’m coming on too strong. I just haven’t gotten this excited about anything in ages. Most days it feels like I’m just going through the motions, you know?_

_Anyway, I hope to hear back from you, but you probably get fan letters all the time._

_Thanks for the great smut!_

_Sincerely,_

_R_

Kylo sank to his knees, clutching the letter to his chest. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the heavens, basking in the feeling of being admired for something he’d created. Usually the only compliments he received revolved around his capacity for destruction: _That was a very efficient massacre, Supreme Leader_ or _Wow, I’ve never seen a man chopped in half like that before._

R, though, admired Kylo’s romantic heart. R loved his books. R wanted to be pen pals.

Kylo had never had a pen pal. The thought made him giddy; it was almost like having a friend.

He rushed to his desk, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper. His hands trembled as he laid out his calligraphy set, including seven separate shades of ink. He was going to do this pen pal thing properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I busted out my 3rd grade calligraphy skills for this moodboard.
> 
> So Kylo and Rey—er, B.S. Kysses and R—are pen pals now! What will Kylo write back??
> 
> Please let me know how you liked this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

When Rey received a thick envelope addressed to _R_ , she immediately knew who it was from. “She responded,” she told BB-8, clutching the envelope tightly enough to leave a permanent crease. “I can’t believe B.S. Kysses actually responded to me!”

BB-8 beeped skeptically and whirred away, leaving Rey alone to open the missive. She took it outside with her, settling under a tree just outside the hidden Resistance base. To her surprise, the envelope contained an enormous sheaf of papers covered in the most elegant handwriting Rey had ever seen.

_Dearest R,_

_Thank you for your correspondence and for the kind words about my writing. Being an artist is a lonely endeavor —too often, my only companions are the blank page and my longing thoughts. Your letter has made me feel like I’m not alone, and for that, I am truly grateful. _

Rey pressed a hand to her chest, rubbing over her heart, which had started aching at the words. “You’re not alone,” she whispered. The echo of a memory brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back. This wasn’t Kylo writing to her; this was a lonely author with a romantic heart responding to an eager fan.

_I’m glad that the theme of finding love and passion with the enemy resonated with you. I’m not a famous war hero, either, of course —wouldn’t that be strange if we were both notorious galactic figures?—but if I was, I would want a sweet rebel to fall in love with me despite my darkness. _

Rey’s brow furrowed. Darkness? How could anyone who wrote such emotional, erotic stories be dark? Then again, writers were supposed to be melancholy. All that introspection and self-loathing gave them fuel for their art or something.

_I know what you mean about going through the motions. These days it feels like I’m giving orders out of habit, rather than out of any real passion for my work. I’m just tired of dictating other people’s lives for them. What about my life? My desires? Writing is the only thing that brings me any pleasure —well, one of two things—and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to start my life over again, this time only pursuing that which fulfills me. _

_Forgive a romantic his idle musings. I fear you, R, may be the only soul in the galaxy who truly understands me._

_His_ idle musings? B.S. Kysses was a man? Rey’s cheeks flushed, and her pulse accelerated. If a man could write about sex and intimacy like that, she couldn’t even imagine what he was like in the bedroom. Of course, he might be an octogenarian, but still…

 _Down, girl,_ she told herself as she kept reading.

_I would be delighted to be your pen pal, R. Your letter has brought me more joy than I could derive from conquering a thousand worlds. The true testament of a work of art’s effectiveness is how it impacts the viewer; if my books have touched your heart, then your letter is no less a work of art, for it has touched mine._

_I am currently writing my next book, The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire. I have included the first fifty pages of the story for your eyes alone. Please write me back and let me know if you enjoyed them._

_Yours in Love and Suffering,_

_B.S. Kysses_

“Wow.” Rey reread the letter, marveling at how eloquent—and intense—B.S. Kysses was. She could tell he was a man of passionate feeling; no wonder he wrote such gorgeous romances. And he’d included the first pages of an unpublished work!

She unfolded the papers and started reading.

_Breyanna sprinted down the alleyway, cursing herself for her stupidity. It had been a simple job —sneak in to the First Order’s regional office, steal their employment roster, and sneak out. She had been accomplishing such tasks since she was a little girl and knew how to move silently. _

_Yet here she was, running away from a squadron of stormtroopers, and all because she’d been too captivated by_ him _to pay attention to her surroundings._

_Loky Olos. The dark, devastatingly handsome man who oversaw the local First Order prison. She wanted to climb him like a tree._

Rey shook her head and laughed. B.S. Kysses was good at a lot of things, but naming characters was not one of them. “Loky Olos” sounded downright silly, although Rey supposed that if she’d grown fond of the name Dirk Rockwell, she’d eventually grow fond of this one, too.

She kept reading, thrilled by the cat-and-mouse game between Loky and Breyanna. Finally, she reached the scene where the sexual tension between them burst into passion.

_Breyanna licked her lips and slid her hand up and down the iron bar to her cell in a suggestive manner. “Why do you keep coming here?” she asked Loky. “Don’t you have better things to do than trade barbs with a simple criminal?”_

_Loky leaned in, all brawny menace. His eyes were liquid honey, his lips generous and made for eating a woman out. “You’re anything but simple, Breyanna,” he growled. “And I want to trade far more than barbs with you.” Then he slammed his mouth over hers, kissing her between the bars with the fury of a solar storm._

_Breyanna moaned and submitted to him. “Yes, Kylo, take me —” _

Rey recoiled. “Ack.” What an unfortunate misspelling. She shook her head, making a note to let B.S. know about the error in her next letter. She could see how Loky had gotten jumbled up into Kylo, and since Kylo was a very famous name in the galaxy, the mix-up made sense, but it still sent Rey’s heart into overdrive. She felt vaguely unclean for the thrill that had gone through her at seeing his name on the page.

_“You’ve seized my heart,” Loky told her between kisses. “Now seize my cock in your clever little hands.”_

_Breyanna eagerly undid the fastenings of his black pants. His erection sprang out, thick and turgid, and she gasped in amazement. “Kriff, you’re huge!”_

_He smirked. “Thanks.”_

_“Seriously, it’s gigantic. Godlike. So thick and long...” Breyanna couldn’t stop staring. “I’m so impressed with your manhood, Loky.”_

_Loky chuckled. “It’s impressed with you, too.” He thrust his hips forward, brushing the broad tip against her._

_Breyanna’s eyes widened. “Can I touch your enormous cock? Please? Please?”_

_“Anything for you…”_

Rey probably should have guessed that B.S. Kysses was a man, considering how rhapsodic his heroines always got about the heroes' dicks. Her cheeks heated. Was this how B.S. wanted women to talk to him in the bedroom? She imagined him for a moment—a tall, darkly handsome man writing erotica by hand, his trousers straining with an enormous erection. Maybe he would take his cock out during particularly passionate chapters, stroking himself in time with the scratch of his pen on the paper. His head would fall forward in pleasure, sending black hair cascading over his face…

Oh, shit. She was imagining Kylo Ren again. Rey shook her head hard, banishing the image. What was _wrong_ with her?

Rey bit her lip and kept reading, but an uncomfortable throbbing had started between her legs. Now that she’d imagined Kylo as B.S. Kysses, she couldn’t stop imagining him as Loky Olos, too. Soon, Breyanna became Rey, and the words on the page blurred as Rey fell into a full-blown fantasy.

She slid her hand inside her leggings, working her clit while she imagined kissing Kylo through the bars of a prison cell. His cock would be so hard in her palm, and he would moan with pleasure as she touched him. He would return the favor, sliding his fingers between her legs and working her into a frenzy…

Rey orgasmed with Kylo’s name on her lips.

When she finally came down, she groaned and thunked her head back against the tree. R’iia, why had B.S. Kysses misspelled Loky’s name? Now that the idea of Kylo Ren, romance hero, was in Rey’s head, she had a feeling it would never come out.

Hours later, Rey was deep in a reread of _The Rebel’s Secret Passion_. As she rubbed herself raw to thoughts of a brooding hero who looked an awful lot like Kylo Ren, she realized she was in serious trouble. B.S.’s misspelling, innocent as it was, had awakened something in her, something that was going to be impossible to ignore.

Rey desperately wanted to fuck the Supreme Leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...
> 
> (jk lol what plot)
> 
> As always, I love reading your comments! Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

_Breyanna spread her legs, revealing her wet, delectable pussy. Kylo lowered his mouth to — _

“Shit.” Kylo scratched the mistake out. He was mortified that he kept writing his actual name into the sex scenes of _The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire_ , but in his defense, Loky was very easy to mix up with Kylo. R had been helpful enough to point that out to him in her response to his letter.

He supposed R might be a man, but the demographic breakdown his publisher had sent him indicated she was likely a woman in the 18-35 age range. His lips tugged into a silly grin at the thought of R. He’d never had a fan before, and every letter he got from the mysterious person made his mood soar. It was like drinking champagne, minus the hangover _._ At least, he thought so. He hadn’t indulged in champagne since childhood; it was a cheerful drink, for cheerful people. On those occasions when his existence grew so agonizing it required chemical dulling, Kylo preferred Corellian whiskey or pure grain alcohol.

For R, though, he could muster a hint of cheer. She was extremely passionate about his books, and despite her abominable handwriting, she had a lot of valuable insights about plot and character. Kylo had already incorporated several of R’s suggestions into his current draft.

The editing process was brutal for a man who hand-wrote his fiction in calligraphy, but Kylo was nothing if not mission-oriented. Just as he’d meticulously massacred an entire village on Tehar, he’d spent hours laboriously copying the first fifty pages of his manuscript before sending them to R. When R had responded with praise and a few notes, he’d copied the words again. His hand was cramping, but it was a relief to work his fine calligraphy muscles again. Too often, his exercise routine emphasized large muscle groups, and hacking and slashing at his enemies, while satisfying, wasn’t a balanced workout.

_Breyanna spread her legs, revealing her wet, delectable pussy. Loky lowered his mouth to her core, hardly able to believe this was finally happening. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months,” he moaned — _

“Shit.” Kylo scratched the sentence out. Loky had only known Breyanna for a few days at this point in the story. So what if Kylo had imagined tonguing Rey for months and months, every single day since they’d met? He was the artist, not the subject.

But Kylo was restless and distracted, unable to stop thinking about Rey and the sweet space between her legs. He’d never seen it, obviously, but he’d thought about it enough that he could probably create a 3-D holographic rendering of his fantasies about that part of her.

Aaaand his dick was hard again.

Kylo moaned and shifted in his seat, simultaneously aroused and mortified by his own weakness. Truthfully, the mortification made the arousal even better. “I’m a dirty boy,” he told an imaginary Rey. “I’m so fucking filthy.”

His boner jerked, and that was it. Kylo was done drafting until he’d had an orgasm. He undid his pants with his left hand and pulled his cock out, squeezing it hard as he stroked from base to tip. The burn of leather on unlubricated skin was excruciatingly amazing, and he whimpered as he imagined Rey abusing his dick like this.

His right hand was still clenched around the calligraphy pen, and Kylo was struck by a sudden urge to document his most illicit fantasies. He started scribbling, his handwriting wobbling up and down the page as he jerked himself off.

_Kylo split Rey’s thighs wide and buried his head between her legs. He licked and sucked at her gorgeous pussy, working her masterfully. She screamed and bucked against him, gripping his hair tightly as she worked her cunt against his mouth. “Kylo,” she moaned. “You’re the most amazing lover in the galaxy. I will happily give up my entire life and all my friends to be with you.”_

Kylo’s hips jerked, and his mouth fell open to accommodate his panting breaths. “Are you mine?” he asked an imaginary Rey.

Imaginary Rey answered him eagerly. “Yes, I’m yours. Yours forever.”

And just like that, Kylo Ren came all over his stomach, his hand, and the draft of his latest romance novel.

#

“I’m concerned about our inferiors having free access to the HoloNet,” Hux said.

“Hm?” Kylo looked up from his latest draft, irritated that, once again, he was stuck in a boring political meeting. “What concerns you?”

Hux’s lips twisted down in an expression of distaste. “There are subversive… documents floating around. It doesn’t seem beneficial to the cause.”

“If our cause can’t survive a few subversive documents, we should worry about the cause.” Kylo examined the last sentence he’d written. _Breyanna kissed Loky’s facial scar, murmuring words of affirmation against his marred skin._

“Supreme Leader!” Hux sounded absolutely scandalized. “Surely you must know the value of narrative when defending our true and righteous mission—”

“Oh, I understand narrative.” Kylo blew on the ink to help set this scene into the woven strands of his very fine paper. “I’m just saying—we already rule the galaxy, so why are we worried about censorship?”

The absolute silence got Kylo’s attention. He looked up from his draft to find the entire table of generals staring at him like he’d grown several extra heads. “What?” he asked, not liking feeling out of the loop.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said in his prissy voice, “we are not founding a new Republic. We are dictators! Benevolent dictators, of course, or at least somewhat benevolent dictators… well, maybe not that benevolent.” He waved a hand, dismissing the issue of relative dictatorial benevolence. “Anyway, dictators make decisions for the common people because the peasants are incapable of making decisions for themselves.”

Kylo blinked, confused by the trajectory of this conversation. “So what does this have to do with subversive documents?”

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he had a headache. “If the people can’t be trusted to make their own decisions, they can’t be trusted to choose their own entertainment. And lately, a very… distressing… form of entertainment has taken over this ship.”

Kylo sat forward eagerly. “Is there a new porn available on the HoloNet?”

“Worse.” Hux glared out the window of the conference room. “The troops are reading erotic novels. Ones that feature Resistance members as heroes and blatantly depict female pleasure.”

Kylo’s eyes widened. The table rattled under a swell of Force energy, and he clenched his fist, trying to get his excitement under control. “Oh, yes? What books?” He frowned. “And why is female pleasure a problem?” Writing female pleasure was honestly one of Kylo’s favorite things about being a romance novelist. He aspired to someday give Rey that much pleasure.

Hux stiffened. “Supreme Leader, letting women read about pleasure only encourages them to seek independence.”

Kylo’s forehead creased. He still wasn’t sure what Hux was getting at. “Women are already independent.”

If there was a human equivalent of a Loth-cat puffing up in outrage, it was Hux right now. “That’s not the point,” he spat. “The point is that this shameless pornography is warping the minds of our troopers.”

“More so than the usual pornography?”

Hux threw up his hands in outrage. “If you can’t understand why B.S. Kysses’s subversive filth is unacceptable, I don’t know what to say. We don’t want to romanticize traitors, Ren!”

Kylo bit down hard on his lower lip to prevent the grin that had almost broken out at hearing about his popularity among the stormtroopers. Then he realized there was something else to be concerned about. He whipped a hand up to choke Hux. “My title is not _Ren_ ,” he growled as he compressed the general’s throat with the Force. “It’s _Supreme Leader_.”

Hux made a garbled sound.

“Good enough.” Kylo flung him to the ground, then stood up. Every eye was fixed on him, and the air stank of sweat and fear. “The troopers can read whatever they want,” Kylo said. “We have bigger concerns.”

Without clarifying what those concerns might be, he swept out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him.

It was time to write the consummation of Loky and Breyanna’s relationship. He owed it to the troops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic:
> 
> 60% Awkward masturbation scenes  
> 30% B.S. Kysses weeping and/or jizzing onto fresh calligraphy ink  
> 10% thinly-veiled social commentary
> 
> If you caught the "words of affirmation" bit, then I am here to tell you that yes, Kylo recently learned about the 5 Love Languages. He's been trying to figure out which one he likes best, but whenever he takes the quiz, he ends up crying at the thought of anyone being so nice to him.
> 
> I hope you're all still enjoying this ludicrous exercise! I would be tickled if you commented to let me know your thoughts and reactions.


	7. Chapter 7

The package BB-8 held out to Rey was much thicker than most of the letters she got from B.S. Kysses. Rey shrieked in excitement, snagging it out of the droid’s grip and bouncing up and down with glee. “It’s here!”

Rose laughed at her. “Girl, you are way too excited about B.S. Kysses.”

Rey stuck her tongue out. “If this is what I think it is, you’re going to regret saying that.”

She ripped the packaging open, and sure enough, it was a neat stack of papers covered in B.S.’s meticulous calligraphy. Rey knew from his last letter that the book was off to the printers, which meant this was a handwritten first edition.

_The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire_

The title was drawn in elegant loops, the black ink augmented by shades of red and gold at the edges. The overall effect made it seem three-dimensional. Rey flipped the page, then gasped at the gorgeous note inside.

_For R, my biggest fan._

There was a dedication, too, contained within a simple black rectangle. _To the one I dream of day and night. If it would earn your favor, I would carve my heart out of my chest and lay it at your feet._

Rey felt a surge of jealousy. Over the last month of corresponding with B.S. Kysses, she’d learned that he was smart, sweet, and emotionally intense. She’d also learned that he was in love with a woman who honestly sounded mythical, based on the rhapsodic terms B.S. used to describe her. No one could be that gorgeous, fiery, intelligent, athletic, idealistic, giving, passionate, tough, etcetera, etcetera. Rey hated the bitch on principle. It sounded like this mythical woman had spurned B.S. quite dramatically, though, which would have been good news, except that B.S. was still hung up on her.

Rey sighed and flipped to her favorite point in the manuscript. It was the moment Loky and Breyanna finally came together. Rey had read an earlier draft and given notes— _maybe tone down the rhapsodic descriptions of Loky’s penis —_and she was eager to see the changes B.S. had made.

_“Your cock is incredible,” Breyanna gushed._

_“Not as incredible as your pussy,” Loky said. “I’m going to eat it day and night.”_

_Breyanna giggled. “I hope you’ll eat actual food, too.”_

_“Why? I’m pretty sure you’re all I need.”_

_Breyanna sat up, suddenly serious. “I grew up in very difficult circumstances,” she said. “We don’t joke about food.”_

Rey smiled at the interplay. B.S. had written this scene all on his own, but he’d managed to capture Rey’s feelings precisely.

Was there such a thing as a soulmate? Because considering B.S.’s eloquent letters, nuanced characters, and enthusiasm for the female orgasm, Rey was seriously considering the possibility.

She wasn’t even fantasizing about Kylo Ren anymore. Okay, she wasn’t fantasizing about him all the time. All right, fine, she fantasized about him constantly. But she didn’t know what B.S. looked like, so didn’t it make sense to pick a random face when imagining him? That was all it was. Rey was using the face of a person she knew as a placeholder so she didn’t have to masturbate to some eyeless, mouthless abomination.

The combination of her crush on B.S. Kysses and her deep carnal attraction to Kylo Ren was confusing, so Rey stopped thinking about it, focusing instead on Loky and Breyanna’s forbidden love.

The scene progressed into erotic territory and was quickly followed by several other sexy scenes. Three hours later, Rey had orgasmed more than was likely wise and was done with the book. She sat up on the bed and stretched, raising her arms over her head. She needed to send B.S. a letter telling him how amazing it was, but right now, she wanted to spread the good word to her fellow romance readers.

Rose was nowhere to be seen—probably naked with Finn somewhere—so Rey marched towards General Organa’s office. She rapped on the door, then entered at the general’s muffled invitation.

“This is an extremely dangerous mission,” Leia was telling a pilot whose name Rey couldn’t remember. “The First Order controls the chocolate and whiskey trade in this sector. You’ll need to be extremely careful.”

“Yes, general,” the pilot said, saluting her. “You have my word. I’ll be back in two days with all the chocolate and whiskey you need.”

He marched past Rey and out the door. Rey met Leia’s gaze bemusedly.

Leia laughed and waved a hand. “It isn’t actually dangerous. He’s just young and restless. It’ll keep him busy for a few days, and we’ll reap the benefits.” Her eyes focused on the manuscript in Rey’s hand, and she leaned in, excitement lighting her face. “Is that it?”

“It is!” Rey dropped the bundle on Leia’s desk. “An advance copy of _The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire._ ”

“You’ve read it?” Leia asked, not removing her gaze from the thick stack of pages.

“Obviously.” Rey grinned. “It’s his best yet.”

Leia’s jaw dropped, and she looked up at Rey with wide eyes. “ _His?_ ”

“Oh.” Rey blushed. “Yes, the big secret is that B.S. Kysses is a man. A very nice one.”

“Wow.” Leia shook her head, trailing her fingers over the pages. “A sex-positive man who appreciates the female orgasm. I haven’t met one of those since Han.”

Rey cleared her throat and shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable at the mention of her mentor’s sex life—especially when it came to the man Rey had once seen as a father figure. These days, the pain of Han’s loss was a dull ache, rather than a sharp stab, but it still hurt.

“I’m calling an emergency book club meeting for tomorrow night,” Leia announced. “We’ll have a full house.”

#

A full house, it turned out, was R2-D2, C-3PO, BB-8, and a very enthusiastic Poe Dameron.

“Hey,” Poe said with a shrug when Rey cast him an incredulous look. “I’m a slut. I love this stuff.”

“‘Slut’ is a term with negative connotations,” C-3PO said. “If I may be so bold as to recommend—”

Poe cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Although why it’s bad to be a slut is beyond me.”

“Because… because...” C-3PO stuttered for a few moments. “I’m not actually sure why.”

They launched into the discussion after that. R2-D2 was of the opinion that the sex was just the right amount of kinky, although C-3PO had calculated the odds of a couple experiencing that many simultaneous orgasms as 3,875,316 to one. BB-8 offered a few half-hearted chirps, spending most of the time peering longingly at the door.

While the droids were caught up discussing the sex, the humans found themselves at odds when it came to Loky Olos’s hero status. He had murdered an awful lot of people—even Rey, who loved a villainous hero, could admit that—but he’d also helped Breyanna break out of prison. And besides, half the murders had been to keep her safe, which was kind of sweet, if you thought about it.

“I just think he’s misunderstood,” Rey said in response to Poe’s claim that Loky was irredeemable.

Poe goggled at her. “He runs a First Order prison! Rey, if that were you, you would be sent to a horrible, dark cell and tortured, and you’d never get out.”

Actually, she would be sent to an interrogation room and strapped down in a chair by a tall, brooding man who looked at her like she was his only hope of salvation...

Rey shook her head, banishing the image. “It’s a fantasy, Poe, not reality. May I point out that you’re here at this book club? Clearly you like something about this book.”

He scowled. “Fine. The sex is hot. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with everything Loky has done.”

“Sure, Loky did bad things, but B.S. Kysses wants us to focus on his redemption.” Rey shifted uncomfortably in her chair, aware that her feelings on this subject were… complicated, to say the least. “Maybe you should be more open-minded, Poe.”

He gaped at her. “More open-minded about First Order scum? I’m sorry, but it’s gross to romanticize evil like that.”

“He isn’t evil,” Rey said, shooting out of her chair. She leveled a finger at Poe. “Loky was caught up in an evil institution, but his character arc proves that it’s never too late to choose a different path. Why are you being so negative when Loky chose Breyanna over the First Order in the end?”

“Oh, my,” C-3PO said, sounding distressed. “This is growing rather heated.”

Leia was smiling at Rey in an odd sort of way. “I appreciate your passion, Rey,” she said. “And yes, I agree that we ought to always be open to the concept of redemption.”

Poe rolled his eyes. “You’re just biased because—”

Leia leveled a brutally cold stare on Poe. “What are you about to say to me, Captain Dameron?”

He visibly shrank into his chair. “Nothing, general,” he said in a higher-pitched voice than normal. “Nothing at all.”

Leia narrowed her eyes. “Good.” The general returned her attention to the rest of the group. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the truly remarkable amount of cunnilingus in this book…”

Rey grinned, settling back into her seat. She couldn’t wait to tell B.S. Kysses all about her book club’s reactions to _The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Leia's mandatory book club! More thinly veiled social commentary! Lokydemption!
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Kylo stood in a viewing chamber at the starboard side of the Finalizer. Beyond the transparisteel window, the stars shone brilliantly in the cold vacuum of space.

It was the perfect metaphor for his soul: frigid, black emptiness, illuminated only by the light of his love for Rey. Without her, he had nothing to offer the universe except death and tyranny.

He rested a gloved hand against the window, wondering which of those many stars had the great fortune of casting its light across her golden skin. She was in hiding with the Resistance, and although he’d put his most elite investigators on the case, they hadn’t been able to find her yet.

What if they never found her? Kylo slammed his fist into the transparisteel, hating the thought. Rey had infiltrated him like a disease, infecting him with passion and dragging him into this hellish, liminal space between light and dark. He wanted to worship her, to offer her all the love his mangled heart was capable of, but she wouldn’t let him. Without her by his side, he had nothing to live for but galactic domination, and even that had lost its appeal.

He was tired. Tired of murder and logistics and the logistics of murder. Subjugating worlds wasn’t enjoyable anymore, and even his Force chokes had grown perfunctory. He was just going through the motions, as he’d once told R.

He’d confessed some of his struggles in his last letter to her, as well:

_Dearest R,_

_I am delighted that your book club enjoyed the cunnilingus, and I’m glad you have an older female mentor to talk to about romance! From the little you’ve told me, she sounds delightful. I’m also pleased that most of the book club found Loky sympathetic. (If you tell me the name of the one dissenting member, I will gladly hunt him down and forcefully change his mind.) Most of all, I’m glad you found him sympathetic, for your opinion has come to mean a great deal to me._

_The truth is, R, that I see quite a bit of myself in Loky. The chiseled body and excellent hair, of course, but also the deep-seated rage and pain. The need for one person to look on me with love and understanding. Just as Loky sacrificed power for love, I cannot help but feel that I, too, would abandon all my responsibilities if only the object of my affection would desire me back. Even just a soft glance or touch from her would be the highlight of my miserable existence._

_You asked what happened between us. Truthfully, nothing. And everything. She touched my hand, and I could have sworn I saw a glorious future unfolding before us, but when I offered her my heart, she spurned me._

_You will consider me a foolish romantic, I suppose —since when is holding hands a sign of a fated love to put any pairing in the entire galactic canon of literature to shame? But she might as well have touched my heart with her tiny yet powerful fingers, and I have been her helpless slave ever since the moment I first beheld her sweaty, terrified face. (It’s an awkward story. You don’t want to hear the details.) _

_Every time I release a new book, I find myself hoping she will stumble upon it and realize every word is for her. That she will understand the love stories I write are merely pale echoes of what our love story could be._

_Without her, I am adrift. Lately, that sense of aimlessness and malaise has spread to my career and my writing, as well. Tell me, R, what shall I do?_

_Yours in Love and Suffering,_

_B.S. Kysses_

R always responded the same day she received a letter. The Finalizer had been stationary lately, in orbit around some planet Hux had designs on, and Kylo had been receiving R’s responses the day after she’d sent them. Even considering the complicated mail relay system they used, he’d been able to narrow her location down to a handful of worlds.

Kylo should receive her response today. He’d felt a violent thrill an hour ago when a droid had approached him, but it hadn’t had anything to offer but schematics for a new superweapon, so Kylo had hacked the droid apart.

He frowned, remembering those schematics, which he still had on a data stick. It felt embarrassingly passé; superweapons were _so_ 34 ABY. Did Hux really lack the imagination to consider other uses for the First Order’s funds? Building libraries, for instance. Art and writing classes for younglings. What was the point of controlling a galaxy if they never did anything fun with it?

He sighed. It was the kind of thought he suspected Rey might appreciate.

A few hesitant beeps behind him announced the arrival of another droid. Kylo ignited his lightsaber, just so he’d be prepared if the visit ended in disappointment. Thankfully, when he turned around, the droid was extending a white envelope in one metallic claw.

Kylo spared the droid and turned off his lightsaber, then eagerly ripped the envelope open.

_Dear B.S. Kysses,_

_That’s a tough situation. I’m sorry the woman you love doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. It’s crazy to me that anyone wouldn’t want you. You’re smart and interesting, and you write beautiful books. She doesn’t know what she’s missing._

Kylo’s cheeks burned, and he fidgeted in pleasure. It wasn’t a happy wiggle, certainly not—the Supreme Leader did not _wiggle —_but it was close.

_Have you tried reaching out to her since your argument? And when you say you offered her your heart, were you explicit that that was what you were offering? I ask because I had a similar scenario happen to me recently. I thought a man wanted me for me, but he just wanted me to be his accomplice in some kind of power grab. He cared about what I could do, not who I was (in fact, he was pretty negative about who I was). Despite my feelings for him, I had to turn him down, because power isn’t what I want: I want to be loved. I know you love this woman, so I hope you told her that._

Kylo frowned. He had told Rey he loved her, right? How else could she have interpreted “You’re nothing, but not to me”? And when he’d said “We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy,” he’d obviously meant “You are my ideal life partner; please marry me and let me love you forever.”

But… he supposed he’d never explicitly said he loved her. Kylo shifted again, but this time it was out of nervousness. Had he messed up his marriage proposal without realizing it?

_I’m also concerned that she was terrified during your first encounter. I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t overcome, but maybe she needs to be wooed gently. Made to feel safe. You’re a protector, B.S. —I’m sure you know how to make a woman feel safe and cherished. It’s what all your heroes do for their heroines, after all, although obviously your methods wouldn’t be as violent as Loky's, ha ha. _

_Anyway, you’ve probably already tried all these things, and I’m not being helpful. But just in case, I figured I’d give a woman’s perspective._

_If you aren’t enjoying your career, why are you still doing it? You’ve been really vague about your day job, but it sounds stressful. Why not quit and write books full-time? I think you would be happier._

Kylo goggled at the letter. He’d never imagined doing something just because it made him _happier_. He couldn’t recall ever being happy, except during the few moments he’d spent with Rey. He was the Supreme Leader and could destroy any enemy he wanted to whenever he wanted to—shouldn’t that be enough?

Then again, if he’d never been happy, he supposed literally anything would make him happier than what he was doing right now.

Would Rey like him better if he was happy?

_You spend a lot of time talking about your mystery woman, but you don’t say much about what you want besides her. If you feel lost, I’d recommend focusing on yourself. Sit down and meditate on who you are outside of your love for her. Think about what you want. Measure yourself as a man, and if you aren’t happy with the life you’ve chosen, choose another. If Loky did it, so can you._

_You have enriched my life immeasurably, dear friend. I hope you find peace._

_Sincerely,_

_R_

_P.S. Would you like to meet in person sometime?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE WANTS TO MEET IN PERSON.
> 
> What will Kylo say?? What's going to happen when they finally meet? As always, I LOVE reading your comments and speculation. Finding out which parts made you laugh is one of my favorite things.
> 
> Also AAAAHHH the lovely [AuroraNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNoirInStardust/pseuds/AuroraNoirInStardust) made this incredible piece of art with a brush pen! I don't even know what a brush pen is, but her handwriting is GORGEOUS. Thank you so much, friend!


	9. Chapter 9

Rey hated meetings. She knew they were necessary to keep the Resistance running smoothly—although in her personal opinion, at least half of them could be eliminated without any measurable difference, other than an increase in morale—but did they have to be so _boring?_ The people in this room were supposedly the saviors of the galaxy, but the minutiae being debated were stultifyingly dull.

Right now, Poe was arguing with another pilot about whether or not it was acceptable for one of the Resistance’s corporate sponsors to demand their logo be placed on the new X-wings. Rey agreed with the other pilot—who cared what the ship looked like, so long as it flew—but Poe was hammering on the table and protesting quite vehemently that he refused to sell out and become a corporate shill.

“Look, half the X-wings end up blowing up, anyway,” Rey interrupted. “How likely is it anyone’s going to see the logos?”

Silence fell over the room as everyone in attendance glared daggers at Rey. Rey was briefly confused by the hostility, but then she met Rose’s horrified gaze across the table, replayed what she’d just said, and winced. “Sorry. Yikes. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Well, she had meant it like that; she just hadn’t paused to think about how insensitive it was to mention the high mortality rate of Resistance pilots.

In her defense, she was distracted. Her latest letter from B.S. Kysses had arrived right before the meeting, and she’d been surreptitiously trying to read it under the table. Unfortunately, Leia seemed to have a sixth sense for when someone wasn’t paying attention, so Rey hadn’t made it much past _Dearest R_.

Finn was repeatedly mouthing something at her that looked an awful lot like “What the fuck,” so Rey kept backpedaling. “I’m sleep-deprived. What I meant to say is that, considering the normal wear-and-tear to the X-wings, the logo probably won’t remain that noticeable.” Her voice was getting higher-pitched with every sentence. “We can even deliberately scuff it up, if that would make the pilots feel better!”

Poe scowled and crossed his arms. “It’s the principle of the thing. Do you really want an asterisk in all the history books that says _‘This revolution brought to you by Orbital Ring Butt Cream'?_ ”

“Captain Dameron,” Leia said, “do you know who can afford principles?”

Poe frowned, and his forehead creased in confusion. “Who?”

“Rich people.” The general’s voice was desert-dry. “Which we are not. Would you rather have the extra ships we need or stay hunkered up in this air base until we die of old age?”

Poe grumbled and looked down at the table, but he didn’t make any further arguments.

“Great,” Leia said. “Logos it is. Now, let’s talk about the complaint that the cafeteria doesn’t offer enough options—”

Rey peeked down at the letter again.

_Dearest R,_

_You are very wise, and you’ve given me much to think about. I thought offering this woman the galaxy —metaphorically, of course—would prove my devotion, but I neglected to inform her that my motivation was pure, undying love for her. I thought she would read between the lines, but you might be right. She’s led a hard life, so I can understand why she wouldn’t trust that my offer was made for the right reasons. _

_I’m sorry to hear about the man who tried to seduce you for your talents, rather than the glorious combination of wit, intelligence, and heart that comes across so clearly on the page. If you tell me his name, I’ll gladly show him the error of his ways._

Rey stifled a snort. _Sure, B.S. His name is Supreme Leader Kylo Ren; maybe you’ve heard of him?_ Poor B.S. wouldn’t stand a chance.

_Something else about your letter struck me, and now I must embarrass myself, because just thinking of it has brought tears to my eyes. You can probably tell by the spattered ink in the previous sentence, but rather than start this missive fresh, I leave my tear stains here as a tribute to you._

_You, dear R, are the first person to ever call me a friend._

Tears welled in Rey’s own eyes at that, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. B.S. Kysses was lonely in the exact same way Rey had once been. Rey still felt lonely sometimes, even with her new friends in the Resistance, and it broke her heart to know that a man capable of so much love could feel so isolated.

“Rey? Are you all right?”

Rey looked up at Leia’s inquiry, hastily folding the letter and wiping her cheeks. “Yes. Sorry, I just got a little emotional.”

Leia eyed her skeptically. “About dehydrated protein packs?”

“Oh, you know.” Rey waved her hand vaguely. “Talking about food makes me think of Jakku.”

She felt bad about the lie when everyone immediately started nodding and making sympathetic sounds. Finn patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll never starve again, Peanut," he said. "I promise.”

“Uh, thanks. That means a lot.”

Rose slid a candy bar across the table, and Rey accepted it, cheeks burning with mortification as she started nibbling and making appreciative noises. Evidently satisfied now that the Last Jedi was being properly fed, the group returned their attention to Leia and the debate about protein packs.

Rey looked down at the letter.

_This may seem a pathetic milestone to you, but I assure you, I will treasure this moment forever. I’ve struggled under the legacy of my family and the weight of my responsibilities my entire life, and it feels like no one has ever seen the real me. You do, and you like me anyway, and while that is frankly astonishing, I’m tremendously grateful._

_You are also my friend, R. If you ever need anything —resources, weapons, vengeance against your enemies—I will happily provide. _

Rey chuckled a little, covering it up by pretending to have a crumb stuck in her throat. B.S. was so funny sometimes.

_I would love to meet you, R, but it’s difficult for me to get away from my responsibilities on short notice. I propose we meet in a month’s time, when I expect to be done with my newest book. I’ll send you a copy in advance, and then we can meet for coffee to discuss it._

_I don’t know what sort of person you imagine when you think about me, but I may not be quite what you’re expecting. Please promise not to freak out?_

_Yours in Love and Suffering,_

_B.S. Kysses_

Rey folded the letter back up, feeling a warm glow in her heart. She and B.S. were real friends now, and they were going to meet up to talk about books and life and who knew what else. She would finally meet the man behind the extensive cunnilingus scenes.

She had no idea why he was worried about her reaction to seeing him. Maybe he wasn’t conventionally handsome? Maybe he had an inordinate number of tentacles? Whatever the reason, Rey would still feel lucky to be his friend (even if she admitted a secret hope that he was hot).

She may have given him a lot to think about, but corresponding with him was making her think about a lot, too. About what had happened with Kylo Ren on the Supremacy and what she wished had happened, instead. About her own communication skills and how they might improve.

If B.S. was guilty of failing to confess his feelings to the person he loved, then so was Rey. Not that she loved Kylo Ren, _certainly_ not. But if he’d held out his hand in Snoke’s throne room and asked her to be with him because he loved her—or really, really liked her, or even just thought she was pretty neat—rather than because they would be good galactic co-rulers, she would have said yes. If, rather than calling her nothing, he’d told her she was everything, she would have been utterly lost for him.

Rey’s certainty on this matter indicated an alarming shift in the way she thought about Kylo Ren, since her relationship with him had been mostly comprised of threats and lightsaber duels. It was amazing what a few hours of connecting to someone’s mind could do. As their bond had intensified, she’d seen a softer side of Kylo. Underneath the armor of the murderous tyrant was an insecure, affection-starved man named Ben Solo, who had the softest brown eyes and a heart that ached for understanding. He had listened patiently to Rey’s troubles, even though she was his nemesis. He had killed his own mentor to protect her, just like Loky had killed his mentor to save Breyanna.

So, yes—if Kylo had asked her to date him or even just kiss him, Rey would have done it.

What if Kylo was as terrible at communication as she and B.S. were? What if he really was interested in her romantically?

Despite Rey’s sort-of crush on B.S. Kysses, she felt an overwhelming thrill at the thought that Kylo might like her back.

“We’ve received reports of a new superweapon being produced under the aegis of General Hux.” Leia’s voice cut through Rey’s internal musings, and she sat bolt upright in her chair, her attention fixed on the general. “It’s still in development, but the rumors say it’ll be along the lines of another Starkiller Base.”

Poe sighed dramatically. “Seriously? This Hux guy is a one-trick pony.”

“Who’s even left to blow up?” Rey asked. “Besides us, obviously, but he hardly needs a superweapon to do that.” She chuckled. “I mean, look at us. We’re being sponsored by anal cream. It’s hardly the big leagues.”

Everyone glared at her again, and Rey realized that, once again, she should have thought before opening her mouth. “I mean, _yet_. We’re not in the big leagues _yet_. But we will be. Obviously.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Just stop talking,” he muttered under his breath.

Rey shut up.

“The good news,” Leia said, completely ignoring Rey’s verbal diarrhea— _wish there was a cream for that_ , Rey thought—“is that this is going to take up their entire budget for the year and then some. They’re going deeply into debt to fund this.” She shook her head. “Honestly, the incompetence is staggering. Their accountant ought to be fired.”

“So what do we do?” Rose asked.

Leia sighed. “What we always do. Find schematics through an unclear backchannel, launch a few X-wings, and target the kill switch to blow the whole thing up.”

Rey privately thought it was odd that the First Order built their superweapons with glaring, easily-accessible vulnerabilities, but she wasn’t complaining. If the Resistance could destroy this new weapon before it even launched, they would save lives and scupper the First Order’s finances. “Count me in,” she said.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but It’ll probably be at least a year,” Leia said. “These things take time to construct.”

Rey frowned. “So why don’t we blow it up now, before it becomes operational?”

“Because the kill switch won’t be in place until then, obviously.” Leia waved Rey’s concern away. “You let me focus on the superweapon. Right now, we have other issues to worry about. For instance, improper flushing practices in the northeast bathroom…”

Rey sighed and slumped in her chair, wishing she was anywhere but here. She closed her eyes and imagined herself on a beach. Maybe with a certain muscular, intense man who would pin her to the sand and whisper the sweetest, filthiest promises in her ear…

At this point, Rey didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t fantasizing about Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated! Let me know what you think 😊


	10. Chapter 10

Kylo spent the next few weeks in a haze of intense creativity. He felt almost like a new person—like something had, at long last, clicked into place. While his prose was rough, the channeling of his raw emotions into art was proving incredibly cathartic.

R’s advice to meditate on who he was and what he wanted out of life had hit him in the gut almost as hard as Snoke had hit him during one of Kylo’s many “reeducation” sessions. Truthfully, Kylo had never thought much about what he personally wanted. When he’d first started considering the concept after receiving R’s letter, it had made him feel squirmy and uncomfortable. What right did he have to desire anything for himself, other than the power he’d been groomed to seize?

The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he really did have dreams that weren’t related to Snoke or the First Order or ruling the galaxy with an iron fist. He wanted to love someone (Rey) and be loved in return (by Rey). He wanted to be a good partner to someone (Rey) and provide for someone (Rey) and grow old with someone (also Rey). But he also wanted to write stories about other people—not just thinly veiled versions of Kylo (and Rey)—finding love and happiness.

He wanted to _create_ something.

Snoke would have fried him with Force lightning for even daring to think such blasphemy, but Snoke was gone. Kylo had killed him. And sure, that murder had been for Rey, but as Kylo reveled in the freedom of being allowed to _want_ something for the first time in over a decade, he realized that maybe it had been for him, too.

As his emotional landscape shifted and resettled like a continent experiencing millennia of tectonic movements all at once, Kylo channeled his confused feelings into his new novel. It was as yet untitled, but he planned to use it to fulfill the other part of R’s advice: to explicitly tell Rey he loved her. Of course, Kylo would have to find the hideout of the Resistance scum to get the manuscript to her, but he was nothing if not determined.

Rey probably wouldn’t want him murdering the Resistance scum, though. Kylo frowned and considered, for the first time, the possibility of just leaving them alone.

No more hunting down his mother and her rag-tag band of martyrs-in-training. No more screeching at his subordinates to _Find the rebels, or I’ll disembowel you with my bare hands_. No more obsessing over vague rumors from distant moons or chopping nav displays in half when those rumors were wrong.

It would just be him and Rey. No more masters, no more wars, no more hiding.

The thought was, surprisingly, a relief.

Kylo brought it up at the next war council, taking a break from a very artistic doodle that was comprised of the word ‘Rey’ written over and over again at various angles. “There are, what, forty Resistance members left? Why do we even care?”

Again, Hux and the generals stared at him like he’d proposed something truly horrifying, like outfitting the stormtroopers in pastel armor or allowing subjugated worlds to hold democratic elections.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux spat, practically quivering with rage, “those traitors are a symbol of a dead way of life. Until that symbol is eradicated, we will never be free of their poisonous beliefs.”

“So if we kill those forty people, no one will ever crave democracy again?”

Hux exchanged a pained look with the nearest general. “No, Re—Supreme Leader. But if we make an example of them—”

Kylo tuned out the rest of the general’s speech. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before—blah blah vengeance, blah blah the glory of the First Order, blah blah the exquisite delight of subjugating the masses. He stroked his fingers over his open journal, contemplating the possibilities it represented. This one was brand new, commissioned precisely to Kylo’s specifications. It had a Bantha-leather cover tooled with the phrase “Love is the Sweetest Agony,” and the pages were rose-scented and slightly glittery. The silver clasp was a wink to his side job: to close it, he inserted a small, erect phallus into an intricately modeled vagina. At first, the artisan hadn’t included a clitoris on the tiny vagina charm, which Kylo had discovered while examining it at length with a magnifying glass. Furious at the oversight, he’d sent a strongly-worded, extremely threatening letter in protest, which had thankfully resulted in a 50% discount and a much more accurate design.

Other than a truly remarkable number of hearts and the litany of _ReyReyReyReyRey_ , those aromatic pages were blank, still awaiting the gift of his prose.

“This is boring,” Kylo announced, standing abruptly. The blank page was taunting him, and Hux only stifled his creativity. “I’ll be in my chambers.”

He left the war council without a second thought, and his heart gave a suspicious little flutter that he suspected might be… some form of contentment? More likely, it was a sign of a serious medical condition, but Kylo couldn’t deny that he felt better than he had in a long while.

Once he was back in his quarters, he seized his calligraphy pen and began to write.

_They held hands over the fire, and it was more of a welcome than Kylo had ever thought to receive from anyone, much less his nemesis._

All right, so he hadn’t chosen proper names for his characters yet, but this would do for a first draft.

_“Could you ever love a monster?” Kylo asked._

_Rey tilted her head, considering. “I think so." Then she smiled at him. "Especially a handsome, well-hung one.”_

Kylo was weeping into the fresh ink again, but for once, it wasn’t from the grief of chronicling a romance that would never be his. He wept because, for the first time, he dared to hope that his dreams might actually come true.

#

A few weeks later, Kylo paced up and down his quarters, nearly ripping his hair out in frustration. He was supposed to leave to meet up with R soon, but Hux had scheduled a last-minute “urgent” meeting. The ginger-haired general had been cagey about what, exactly, the meeting was going to address, and the brief agenda he’d sent around earlier that morning hadn’t shed any light on the mystery.

  * Discussion of Leadership Structure
  * Team-Building Activity
  * Cleanup and Discussion of Next Steps



Kylo hated team-building activities, although Hux seemed to cherish them. There was the time he’d made the generals sit in a circle and throw a ball around while they shared their names, favorite colors, and worst atrocities. Then there was the time they’d played Two Truths and a Lie, which had, once again, ended up focusing mostly on atrocities. And don’t get Kylo started on the trust falls.

Worse than the threat of another boring, pointless meeting, though, was the fact that Kylo hadn’t been able to finish the draft of his latest book. Every time he tried to write a happy ending for his protagonists, he got stuck. He blamed the fact that the story was an almost exact rendition of his relationship with Rey. He could picture her hatred and disdain vividly, but he couldn’t quite envision what her forgiveness or love would look like.

It was pathetic.

And R would be so disappointed when she got the pages. He hadn’t even had time to write a fresh draft of the prose he did have, so it was a mess of crossed-out sections and despairing marginalia. In short, it was the exact opposite of what a romance novel should be, lacking a happy ending or even a decent sex scene.

He needed to mail it this morning, though, or she wouldn’t get it in time to read it before their coffee date. They were meeting on one of the planets that had been on Kylo’s list of “places where R might live.” The planet was also, oddly, on the list of “places where the Resistance might be,” so Kylo planned to linger after his coffee date to investigate.

Not that his meeting with R was a “date” in the romantic sense of the word. He recoiled at the very thought. His heart belonged to Rey and Rey alone. This was just a scheduled friendship exercise. He didn’t know what friends called such meetups, since he’d never had a friend, but he was fairly sure they were standard practice.

He felt flustered as he hurried through the corridors of the Finalizer, already five minutes late for the meeting. His manuscript and calligraphy set were tucked under one arm; he planned to write a few more sentences during the meeting, then drop the manuscript off with a postal droid immediately afterwards. Then he would shower, change, and pack for the journey to his first ever friendship rendezvous.

Kylo snorted as he thought about the tedious hour ahead. He hoped Hux hadn’t planned another eating competition. The last one had ended with several competitors choking to death (possibly with some assistance from the Force), and good help was hard to find these days.

The door to the meeting room slid open, and Kylo strode inside, cape billowing behind him. “Sorry I’m late—”

He stopped in his tracks as he was confronted by a room full of stormtroopers leveling blasters, swords, vibro-axes, and batons at him.

“Time for a change in leadership, Ren,” Hux sneered.

The first blaster bolt hit Kylo in the shoulder, knocking him back, and a second grazed his thigh. The third, much to his dismay, singed the cover of his manuscript. He unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and engaged it, keeping the book tucked under his left arm for safety.

As the first wave of troopers leapt on him in a blur of batons and blades, Kylo realized he’d grossly misinterpreted what constituted a team-building activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...uh oh!
> 
> B.S. Kysses is in trouble! What do you think is going to happen? Will he survive the coup? Will he make it to his coffee date in time?
> 
> As always, I love reading your comments. Thanks for reading and supporting!


	11. Chapter 11

Rey fidgeted at the spaceport, unable to hold still as the minutes ticked by. She needed to leave to meet B.S. Kysses soon, but she still hadn’t received the manuscript he’d promised to send. The coffee shop was a few hours away—Rey wasn’t foolish enough to invite a stranger directly to the Resistance’s hideout—and she didn’t want to be late.

She also didn’t want to go to the meeting without at least starting B.S.’s latest book. He’d come all this way to see her; the least she could do was speed read as much as she could.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Thirty.

Rey ought to have hopped on a shuttle to the city already, but something kept her frozen in place. She could take an X-wing and get to the city in an hour, after all, which gave the postal system thirty more minutes to bring her the package.

Twenty-eight minutes later, BB-8 rolled into the hangar with a battered-looking envelope.

“Oh, thank R’iia!” Rey ran towards the tiny droid, dropping to her knees and kissing his head all over while he beeped in agitation. “Thank you, BB-8. You have no idea what this means to me.”

She tucked the envelope into her bag, then sprinted for the X-wing she was “borrowing” from Poe and started the flight sequence. BB-8 whistled inquisitively, but she shook her head. “No, BB-8. This is a non-combat flight; I’ll be fine if it’s just me.”

Even if Poe wasn’t aware of her commandeering his X-wing, Leia had already given her blessing, so Rey wouldn’t get in trouble. The general had been thrilled to learn about the meetup and had even asked Rey to pass along a message to B.S. Kysses. “Tell him his calligraphy has gotten so lovely, and I’m very happy he has a hobby.” It was an odd message, but the general said a lot of odd things, so Rey shrugged it off.

The X-wing's engines roared to life, and Rey sped towards the capital, hoping she would make it in time for her coffee date with B.S. Kysses.

#

Rey landed with an aggressiveness that would have appalled every pilot in the galaxy other than Han and Poe. It was a marvelous, dangerous, screeching affair, but there was no time to lose: B.S. Kysses was waiting for her, and thanks to some tedious air traffic control bullshit, Rey was running five minutes behind schedule.

She leapt out of the X-wing, ignoring the shrieking protests of the tiny, furred being who was waving air traffic control wands in her direction. “Sorry,” she shot over her shoulder. “I’ll be back eventually.”

Then she ran out of the spaceport and into the tangled streets leading to her favorite coffee shop.

She was panting when she burst through the door. She hadn’t been here in a few months—being a galactic fugitive kind of limited one’s social life—but it looked the same as ever. A cozy, warm enclave with a display case full of decadent pastries, surrounded by intimate tables and booths.

No one was there.

Rey skidded to a halt in front of the croissants. The young barista behind the counter jumped in surprise, his lekku swaying with the movement. “Uh, can I help you?” he said in a quavering voice.

“Coffee,” Rey said, panicking about her circumstances. “The cheapest you have.”

A few minutes later, she was seated at the far booth with a suspiciously purple beverage, her back against the wall and her eyes drifting between the manuscript in front of her and the door. The envelope the book had been contained in was dirty and singed, and Rey had assumed the package had gotten lost in the mail, but the manuscript itself was in even worse condition. Soot streaked the cover page, an entire corner had been burned off, and, worst of all, the pages were spattered with what looked like blood. There hadn’t been a note accompanying it, only her P.O. Box written on the envelope in a messy scrawl that looked nothing like B.S.’s normal handwriting.

Rey trailed her fingers over the large, rust-covered stain that overlapped the title: _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_. “What happened, B.S.?” she whispered, feeling terribly worried. He was late to coffee, and his manuscript had barely made it to her intact. What if the blood was his?

She flipped to the first page, hoping some clue might be hidden in his prose.

_To R_ , the dedication read, _for encouraging me to be honest about my feelings. And to the love of my life: You are everything_.

Tears pricked Rey’s eyes. Those words, combined with the odd use of “scavenger” in the title, were giving her a sense of déjà vu—although, of course, she was longing for something that had never been. Sighing, she flipped the page and started reading in earnest.

_Reya rappelled down the hulking exterior of a Star Destroyer, her rucksack stuffed full of scavenged components. She was glad she’d finally found something after days of searching; now she would be able to trade the parts for rations._

Rey gaped at the paragraph, which might as well have been ripped from her own life experience. And Reya? Seriously? The coincidence was downright eerie.

She kept reading, utterly riveted by Reya’s journey to the spaceport, where the heroine stowed away on the first ship off her miserable desert planet. It was a smuggling ship run by a plucky gang of rebels and outlaws, and once they discovered Reya onboard—and experienced firsthand her remarkable fighting skills—they gladly welcomed her to the team. They had just completed a heist on a First Order flagship and were currently running from the feared leader of the First Order, the notoriously deadly, raven-haired Benlo Renlo—

“No.” Rey slammed the manuscript shut, glaring at it like it was a venomous scorpion she’d caught trying to sneak into her boot. “That’s just ridiculous.”

Was B.S. _trying_ to make it sound like he was writing about Kylo Ren? But that couldn’t be right, because no one but Rey and Leia knew Kylo’s real name was Ben…

Realization struck with the concussive force of a TIE fighter maneuvering directly into an asteroid.

_I see quite a bit of myself in Loky. The chiseled body and excellent hair, of course, but also the deep-seated rage and pain..._

_She touched my hand..._

_I thought offering this woman the galaxy would prove my devotion…_

And that kriffing typo: _“Yes, Kylo, take me—”_

Rey clapped her hands to her mouth, utterly horrified. “Oh, R'iia.”

_Kylo Ren was B.S. Kysses._

She choked on a laugh, then immediately burst into tears. The drops fell onto the blood- and smoke-stained manuscript, leaving fat circles on the paper like craters pockmarking a moon. _Kylo_ was the sweet, sensitive, intense man who’d been writing to her all this time. Kylo was the man madly in love with a woman who had spurned him. Kylo had been writing all of his romances for her, for _Rey_.

The first B.S. Kysses book had come out a year ago— _“about the time you joined us,”_ Leia had said. _“I have no idea what inspired her to write so much.”_ And Force, Leia must have recognized the calligraphy—that explained her strange message for B.S. Kysses.

Rey’s heart squeezed painfully. “I think I know what inspired him,” she whispered, although the idea was nearly incomprehensible. Rey had never been anyone’s muse before. She’d never inspired art or passion or love… or at least so she’d thought.

Rey thought back to every book B.S. had ever written, starting with _The Rebel’s Secret Passion_. They all featured plucky, courageous heroines and villainous heroes who sought redemption. Many of them featured the First Order. And R'iia, the _names!_ How had she failed to notice the names?

Dirk Rockwell and Kira had been the couple in the first book. After that came Brock Cummington and Isabella, then Dane the Devastator and Daisy— _who Dane had called his desert flower_ —and then the names had gotten strange. She remembered wondering about those silly names when she’d first read through his backlist.

_Renno Kyn and Treycie_

_Neb Nerlo and Sareyah_

_Ken Rolo and Chreystina_

_Kyben Lore and Deirdrey_

_Loky Olos and Breyanna_

And on and on and on in what Rey now realized were endless variations of their real names.

Rey thumped her head against the table. She was the biggest idiot ever to pick up a lightsaber and challenge a trained darksider in combat without knowing the first thing about technique. The most foolish woman ever to ship herself off to her greatest enemy in a tiny escape pod with no plan other than hoping for the best. The most ignorant Jedi ever to leap head-first into a pit of dark Force energy despite being warned not to. She’d been painfully oblivious to a fact which, in retrospect, should have been extremely obvious. In her defense, writing romance novels wasn’t exactly normal evil dictator behavior, but B.S. Kysses had _not_ been subtle. She groaned and thunked her head on the table again as she realized his pen name was also a clue. B.S. was Ben Solo. Kysses was Kisses mixed with Kylo, which was _disgustingly_ adorable.

All of it painted a picture of a man who was far more complex—and now even more compelling—than Rey had ever guessed. Kylo was patient and artistic enough to write in calligraphy. He was the kind of man who wept all over his letters and then sent them anyway. He loved with a deep, obsessive intensity that never wavered.

And he was apparently extremely enthusiastic about cunnilingus.

“Holy shit.” Rey opened the manuscript again, desperate to absorb as much of the plot as possible before he showed up.

Reya and Benlo Renlo danced around each other for most of the book, each antagonistic encounter flavored with an undeniable eroticism. By the two-thirds point, Rey wanted to scream at them to just fuck already, but Reya was still in denial about her feelings, and Benlo was too caught up in his responsibilities to the First Order. Both characters languished in traps of their own making, unable to be with each other yet unable to stay apart.

Rey was crying continuously now, recognizing herself in every word. This was Kylo’s most honest love letter yet. His anguished passion practically leapt off the page, and she could tell he’d delved deeper into his emotions and trauma than ever before, exposing his heart in every poetic phrase.

_The love stories I write are merely pale echoes of what our love story could be_ , he’d written. Reading this masterpiece, Rey believed him.

He had written little despairing notes in the margins, too:

_Is Benlo’s desperation clear enough? Will she sympathize with him? You fool, she’ll never read this._

_Needs more pathos to reflect the agony in my soul_

_She’ll never want me_

_I’m deluded_

_Add more fantasies about eating her out?_

_Why can’t I write a kissing scene—oh wait, it’s because I can’t imagine her ever caring for me_

_I’m nothing_

_Benlo Renlo can’t have a happy ending because I don’t deserve one, either_

_If only she could read this and understand._

Rey understood. Now, finally, she understood everything.

Hours passed. By the time Rey reached the abrupt end of the manuscript, Benlo and Reya still hadn’t kissed. Worse yet, Kylo still hadn’t come to the coffee shop

He didn’t know he’d been writing to Rey—she was sure of that. He'd been thrilled to have a friend in R— _his first friend_ , she thought with a pang of grief—and wouldn’t have stood her up. And now that Rey knew who B.S. Kysses was, the blood and soot on _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ couldn’t be excused as a mishap on the part of the postal service.

Something had happened to Kylo.

Panic sent Rey shooting out of her seat violently enough to make patrons scatter and the barista duck for cover. She closed her eyes and opened the bond for the first time in months, desperate for some indication that he was unhurt.

_Pain_. _Confusion. Regret._

Rey gasped, clutching her gut in sympathetic pain. Kylo— _Ben_ , she could call him Ben again—was badly hurt but still alive. She forced the connection even wider, willing herself to appear before him. Every other time, the Force had initiated their interactions, but Rey was determined to make it happen. Fuck ancient religions and mysterious powers—she had a coffee date with her ex-nemesis to complete.

All the noise was sucked out of the room, and Ben materialized on the floor of the coffee shop. He was clad all in black, from his gloves to his cape, and he was curled up like a wounded animal. His skin was streaked with soot and blood.

He blinked up at her. “Rey?” His voice was hoarse and quivering. “Are you really here?” The look of wonder that crossed his face nearly broke Rey’s heart. He sounded drunk, and his eyes were hazy and unfocused, but he was probably just suffering from blood loss.

She knelt by his side, lifting a hand to ghost over his blood-spattered brow. “Not yet, but I will be. Where are you, Ben?”

He blinked slowly. “It’s a long story—”

“Cut the shit. Give me a location.”

His gaze trailed over something she couldn’t see. “Would you believe I got kicked out of a post office for bleeding on the customers?” He laughed a little. “No wonder I’m hallucinating. There’s no way you’d actually come for me.”

The connection severed abruptly, and sound rushed back in. The hiss of the barista making some super-heated drink, the ding of the shop bell, the concerned murmurs of the other customers as they stared at Rey like she was a lunatic.

Rey bared her teeth at them. “What are you looking at? I was talking to my friend—er, nemesis. Pen pal. Soulmate. Whatever.”

The teenage barista stepped around the counter with his hands held up placatingly. “Hey, lady, it’s okay. Lots of people have imaginary friends. Maybe you should leave, though?”

Oh, she was going to leave. Rey ignited her lightsaber, sending patrons scattering. “Thanks for the coffee,” she called over her shoulder as she stormed towards the door. “I have somewhere to be.”

She was going to tear apart every post office in the Mid Rim until she found B.S. Kysses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Rey finally figured it out! Whew! It only took a truly amazing number of hints to get there.
> 
> What do you think is going to happen when she catches up with Kylo??
> 
> As always, your comments are much appreciated. Let me know what you thought of this chapter! The next one's going to be long and exciting...


	12. Chapter 12

Kylo Ren lay huddled in an alleyway, slowly bleeding out from a multitude of injuries. He’d defeated all his attackers on the Finalizer—rather magnificently, if he said so himself—but he’d nearly been butchered in the process. His arms and legs were burned from the blaster bolts he hadn’t been able to deflect, and a vibro axe had sliced a line across his chest to his abdomen. More cuts peppered his torso, and he was pretty sure he’d been stabbed in the back, but he couldn’t twist around to check.

He coughed, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs. Hux, the coward, had thrown a chair at him and fled the room when he’d realized the coup wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. Kylo would have pursued him, but he’d recognized that his wounds required attention. And besides, he’d had a coffee date to get to.

Kylo had taken his TIE Silencer and headed for the nearest moon with a post office. He wasn’t thinking clearly, or else he might have gone to see a doctor first, but all his hazy mind could focus on was that he needed to A) get the manuscript to R and B) get himself to R.

He had succeeded on the first task—he hoped. Unfortunately, there was no way he was going to accomplish the second.

He closed his eyes, breathing into the pain. He just needed to sleep for a few minutes, that was all. Then he’d be strong enough to drag himself to a doctor.

He wondered if he would dream of Rey. His pulse had leapt wildly when he’d hallucinated her earlier. Oh, what sweet succor that would have been, to speak with her once more. But no, she had closed the bond after Crait; there was no way she’d ever want to see him again, unless it was to kill him.

That might be nice, he thought drowsily. Rey had brought him to life; it was only right that she should end his life, too. She could plunge the scalding heat of her lightsaber into the heart that already burned for her, and he would finally be complete.

Before he passed out, he found himself wishing he hadn’t lost his calligraphy set and notebook during the battle, because that was a pretty good line.

#

He woke to screams.

This wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Kylo Ren, so at first he thought nothing of it. Just another day in the life. Likewise, the heavy, coppery stench of blood wasn’t all that odd, either.

Then a wave of pain broke over him, and yeah, that was also a standard part of Kylo’s routine, but the intensity of it was a bit worrisome.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing a dirty alleyway, rather than his bedroom on the Finalizer. Some noxious substance was soaking into his cloak, his skin was crusted with blood, and a three-eyed rat was nibbling on his boot.

Right. The coup.

He tried to push himself upright, but he was too weak, so he just flopped around like a dying fish. The screams were getting louder, and several people sprinted past the mouth of the alleyway. “Don’t go into the post office!” someone shrieked. “She’s ripping it apart.”

That sounded interesting. Kylo struggled manfully against gravity once more, and this time he managed to prop himself in a seated position against the wall. The rat followed, growing so bold as to clamber onto Kylo’s shin. He glowered at it. “I’m a universally feared galactic tyrant,” he informed it. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Seemingly unconcerned, the rat resumed nibbling his shoelaces. Kylo sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, too dizzy to properly menace the thing. He focused on the sounds instead: screams, crashes, and muffled female yelling that sounded oddly familiar. He was hallucinating again—that had to be it. But then came the distinctive hum of a lightsaber swiping through the air, and Kylo’s heart kicked into a sprint.

“Where is he?” the woman shouted, and yes, that was absolutely, positively Rey. Kylo’s vision wavered as the little blood he had left went careening through his veins like a drunken podracer. “You’re telling me you just kicked a bleeding man out and didn’t call a doctor?” More crashing sounds, more screams.

“Rey,” he croaked. The rat looked up at the sound, and Kylo could have sworn its beady little eyes held contempt.

He focused on the bond, although it took more effort than it normally did to open himself to the Force. He called out her name silently, hoping she would sense him. _Rey_.

The crashing and slashing sounds stopped. Then, miraculously, the sound was sucked out of the alleyway, and Rey appeared before him, disheveled and furious-looking. "Ben? Where are you?”

He coughed, spraying a fine mist of blood all over his pants and the rat. While disgusting, the spray at least accomplished what Kylo hadn’t managed to earlier, and the rodent skittered away with an outraged chitter.

Rey frowned. “Was that a rat?”

“It isn’t a pet or anything,” he said, feeling the odd urge to defend himself. “It just liked my boots.”

Rey shook her head as if clearing it. “Whatever. Where are you?”

He gave her what he hoped was a rakish smirk, although it was probably a woozy grimace. “Ready to kill me, scavenger?” He had no idea why he was falling back into this adversarial routine, but in his defense, she was _right there_ and _mind-numbingly perfect_ and _everything he’d ever wanted_ and he was half-dead and dying more by the second, and it was all just a little overwhelming.

She glared at him, and it was the exact same look she’d given him on Starkiller Base before she’d carved him open. “Location. Now.”

“Terrible, dirty alley. I heard you demolishing the post office, by the way. It was very sexy.” He smiled at her, so happy to finally be able to give her a compliment. Black spots swam over his vision, and he blinked hard in an attempt to dispel them. If Rey looming over him with lightsaber ablaze was the last thing he ever saw, he’d die happy.

Rey abruptly vanished, and the normal sounds of the city rushed back in. Kylo slumped against the wall, devastated by the loss. Now that he’d had a glimpse of her, he couldn’t stand to spend a single second without her.

Footsteps pounded to the right, and Kylo looked towards the entrance to the street, hardly daring to hope. But yes, there she was, slim and solid and _perfect_ , running towards him like an avenging angel. Her lightsaber blazed blue, a promise written in magnetically-contained plasma.

His lightsaber was clipped to his belt, but he didn’t bother engaging it. He spread his arms wide, ready for whatever fate she wanted to deal him. That annoying blackness kept encroaching on his vision, and he was dizzy again, but he prayed he would stay conscious long enough to experience her murdering him. It would be the most intimate contact they’d ever had.

“My goddess of vengeance,” he slurred as she skidded to a stop next to him. “All I crave is your touch. End me now, and know that this is the best death I could ever aspire to.”

Rey huffed out a breath and knelt by his side. “You’re a fucking idiot,” she said as she placed her hand over the wound on his abdomen. White light built around her palm, and his torn flesh quivered as she tried to heal him with the Force. “But you’re my idiot.”

It was too much to process. Kylo gaped at her, torn between passing out from blood loss and passing out because he was so kriffing excited. He was _her_ idiot? She’d actually laid claim to him?

Rey lifted her hand from the gash on his stomach, then frowned. Kylo looked down and saw that the cut didn’t actually seem much better. “I don’t really know how to do this,” she confessed, sounding abashed. “The Force healing. It’s all kind of theoretical at this point.”

“Huh.” Kylo tried to think. “Luke taught me this one ages ago. Um… maybe just focus on one part of my body at a time and imagine pushing all your energy there?”

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, her hand still pressing over the wound on his abdomen. The Force swelled between them, and—

Kylo yipped in surprise. “Rey!”

She looked up at him with alarm. “Shit! Did I do it right?”

He shook his head, his cheeks burning from mortification—and what a waste of blood that was, but then again, he was about to die because all his blood was pooling somewhere else entirely—and attempted to cover his crotch with his hands. “You, uh, maybe focused on the wrong part.”

Rey’s brow furrowed with confusion. She studied him thoroughly, then gasped when she saw his pelvis and the erection he couldn’t quite hide. “Oh, R'iia!” She clapped her hands to her cheeks, looking just as red as he felt. “Did I do that?”

“It’s fine,” Kylo croaked. This was a new sensation—needing to orgasm while he was on death’s doorstep—but Rey deserved nothing but praise, even if her botched attempt at Force healing resulted in him dying with a massive hard-on. “Ah, maybe focus on the wounds next time, though?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She planted her hands on his torso again, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly he thought the effort must hurt. A white glow built beneath her hands again, and then his wound sealed a little more.

Rey was panting by the time she was done. “Better?” she asked as she looked down at him.

“Uh.” Kylo shifted, very aware of the half-open gash on his stomach and the massive erection she’d caused. “Do you think I’m stable enough to go to the doctor?”

Rey jolted upright. “Yes! Good point. Excellent point.” She bent to slide an arm around his back, then helped him stand. Kylo tried not to burden her with his weight, but it was difficult. Thankfully, Rey was just as strong as she looked. “And sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “About the whole… penis thing.”

Kylo waved it off. “It’s nothing I didn’t try during training at Luke’s temple.” Having a perpetually hard dick had sounded great to a teenaged Ben in theory, if not in practice.

“Oh?” She looked up at him through her lashes as she helped him stagger out of the alleyway. “So you’ll be fine?”

He grimaced. “So long as it lasts less than four hours.”

They staggered down the street, passing the smoking ruins of the post office. Kylo was impressed by the destruction, despite the lack of bodies. “Are you nursing me back to health so you can murder me properly?” he asked, finally growing cognizant enough to realize that his nemesis was trying to help him.

Rey rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story. Just—shut up for now.”

#

They found an emergency medical clinic several blocks away, and Rey helped him stagger up to the counter to check in.

The receptionist looked him up and down. “Do you have an appointment?”

He stared at her incredulously. “No. That would require forethought, and I assure you I didn’t plan this murder attempt in advance.”

She sighed and shook her head, as if this was an excuse she heard far too often. “Then do you have a referral?”

“A what?”

“Your primary care physician needs to see you first, assess your condition, then refer you to our office.”

“Excuse me,” Rey said testily, “the sign on the door said this was an acute trauma clinic.  _ Acute _ means severe. How is anyone with severe trauma going to manage to get a referral before keeling over dead?”

She shrugged. “Bring it up with your insurance provider.” She eyed Kylo suspiciously. “You do have insurance, don’t you?”

Kylo coughed, spraying the check-in sheet with blood. His vision was going black around the edges again, and he sank to his knees. Distantly, he listened as Rey continued questioning the receptionist.

“Say he got a referral,” she said. “How soon could you see him?”

The receptionist ran a finger down her appointment book, flipped a page, then tapped on a blank square. “Ten weeks from now.”

Kylo groaned.

“Listen up,” Rey said in a menacing voice unlike anything he’d ever heard from her. “Here’s his referral.” She engaged her lightsaber, and the blinding blue light seared away some of the darkness obscuring Kylo’s vision. “And this is his appointment.”

She swung the saber down, chopping the calendar—and the desk—in half. The receptionist shrieked and slid back in her chair, staring in horror at the mutilated furniture.

Rey swung the saber in a menacing arc. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to see his insurance.”

“This is all highly irregular,” the receptionist huffed, nudging her glasses up her nose, “but I suppose we can fit him in sooner.”

Kylo was blacking out again, but he used his last moments of consciousness to grin up at Rey, the beautifully bloodthirsty woman of his dreams.  
  
Kriff, he loved her.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay so the chapter count keeps going up. In my defense, this chapter is about four times as long as the others and the word count is still climbing, so I'm splitting it in two. Sorry if this is a weird place to stop—I figured it was best to post what I have now, rather than waiting until the mega-chapter was done.
> 
> But! Next chapter! Very exciting things are coming!
> 
> How did you like this chapter? I would love to hear your thoughts on anything and everything, including whether or not space healthcare is as bad as American healthcare, the best way to properly menace a three-eyed rat, and what other inappropriate things the Force can be used for.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

A few hours after Rey threatened the clinic receptionist, Kylo was fully restored to health, courtesy of a bacta tank and a terrified doctor. The clinic let him shower off the blood and grime, and the doctor even gave Kylo a pair of pink scrubs to wear, since his Supreme Leader attire was irrevocably stained.

Rey burst into laughter when she saw him in the scrubs with his lightsaber belted at his hip. “You look ridiculous.”

Kylo’s cheeks flushed. He liked making her laugh. “They’re very comfortable,” he said, swinging his arms experimentally. “Good range of motion. That’ll be helpful for when you finally try to kill me.”

He was still confused why she hadn’t attempted an assassination yet. His entire existence was dedicated to loving her, but he knew better than to expect that Rey felt any sort of affection for him in return. Sure, she’d nearly murdered several people to get him medical treatment, but that was probably just because she was territorial about him. He was _her_ nemesis; of course she wouldn’t want anyone else to murder him.

Rey rolled her eyes, then grabbed his hand. “Come on. We need to talk.” She tugged him along behind her, and he followed blindly, too busy staring at her hand to care where they were going. She could have led him over a cliff, and he would have leapt happily to his doom.

She was _touching_ him. Willingly. Almost… casually. Like this was a thing they did all the time, not something so rare that the one time it had happened had been the highlight of Kylo’s miserable existence. He’d orgasmed to the memory of her fingers brushing his more times than he could count, and now she was actually _gripping_ his fingers.

Wild fantasies filled his brain, one right after the other. Maybe she would squeeze his fingers or run her thumb over the back of his hand. Maybe she would smile at him while she did it. Maybe she would just keep holding his hand forever and ever, although that would make the masturbation awkward. And oh, he was absolutely going to masturbate to the memory of this wonderful, perfect moment, assuming she let him live long enough to do it. His Force-fueled erection had gone down in the bacta tank, but his Rey-fueled erection was just getting started.

She dragged him to a small park, then tugged him down onto a bench beside her. She didn’t let go of his hand, and Kylo praised every deity in the galactic pantheon for that, from the Maker to the Big Green Fish to the Snaggle-Toothed Pit of Eternal Digestion.

“Now,” Rey said, angling her torso to face Kylo. “I think you have something to tell me.”

He gaped at her. Blinked. Made a weird little whimpering noise. “I do?”

“Ben.” She squeezed his fingers once, and his heart soared. He was going to disintegrate into pure Force energy if she did that again. “I think you’ve been keeping a big secret from me.”

He cast about wildly for what that secret might be. He couldn’t think about anything besides the fact that she was touching him— _oh Force she was touching him she was touching him she was touching him_. “Guhhh,” he said.

“I think you have some feelings...” she prompted.

“Oh!” Realization struck like a blaster bolt, and Kylo’s elation immediately transformed into pure panic. This was the moment, wasn’t it? The grand declaration he wrote into all his books. The moment when the hero confessed his love for the heroine and they decided to be together forever and then made passionate love on the nearest horizontal—or vertical—surface.

What if Rey didn’t want to be with him, though? What if she laughed at him?

Kylo took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. If Loky Olos and Dirk Rockwell and Kyben Lore could do this, so could he. He dropped to his knees in front of the bench, clutching her hand to his chest. “I love you,” he said, although the confession came out far too fast and totally garbled and at a pitch he was sure he’d never been capable of hitting before: a shrill sort of _ilorvuu_.

Rey blinked at him. “What?”

“I love you.” That one sounded better. Rey’s eyes widened, and she bit her lip, and _ohmyfuckingForce_ was that a dimple peeping out? Was she about to smile? Did she _like_ this? “I love you,” he repeated, giddy with relief at finally being able to say it out loud. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Every repetition made it easier, especially since Rey’s eyes were shining, and suddenly he couldn’t stop saying it. “I love you so much it consumes my every waking thought. I love you so much I would sacrifice my life for you. I love you so much I would annihilate entire worlds for you.”

She winced. “Maybe tone that last bit down.”

“Right, right.” He nodded. “No annihilating.” He dared to grab her other hand, clutching both to his chest. She could undoubtedly feel the wild pounding of his heart. Good: his love was spelled out in that frantic beat.

Kylo took a deep breath before his next confession. “I love you so much I started a career as an erotic novelist just so I could imagine what it would be like to be with you.” Then, realizing that might come across poorly, he rushed to clarify. “Not in a weird way. It’s not just sex. Okay, there’s a lot of sex. But, uh, lots of feelings, too?” He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind.”

Rey squeezed his hands again— _utter bliss —_and then tugged him towards her. His eyes shot open, and when he saw the blinding grin on her face, he thought he might faint.

“I know,” she said, beaming at him.

Kylo gaped at her, overwhelmed by literally everything that was happening. He was on his knees in front of Rey, wearing pink scrubs, _holding her hands_ , and confessing both his love and his secret career as a romance novelist… and she _knew?_ And she was smiling? “Hnnngh,” he said in response. A translator fluent in “lovesick human male” could have come up with several interpretations for that noise, ranging from “Say what now?” to “Holy shit, I’m going to pass out,” but there were, alas, no translators present to help Kylo Ren articulate his feelings.

Rey bit her lip again in that distracting way. “I’m R.”

“I’m are,” he repeated faintly. “What? That’s not grammatically correct.”

“I’m R,” she repeated. “The letter R.”

It could be some kind of weird code, but… “My pen pal?” he asked incredulously, feeling dizzy.

Rey nodded, still grinning at him like he was the best thing she’d ever seen, and Kylo had never seen that look on someone’s face before. It hit him like one of Snoke’s telekinetic attacks, making his heart seize up and his muscles tense, but this time it felt indescribably good.

“My pen pal?” he repeated, his voice breaking. He clutched her hands tighter, surging up on his knees to put their faces level with one another. “My friend?”

“Yes.” Rey tugged on one of her hands, and he didn’t want to let go, but she was insistent, so he reluctantly released her. The loss was immediately made better when she pressed her palm against his cheek. “I’m your friend and your pen pal and apparently your muse, and I have no idea how we got here, but I’m so glad we did.”

And then Rey did the wildest, craziest, most shocking thing possible.

She leaned forward and kissed him.

Kylo wished he could say he immediately kissed her back in an assertively manly manner. He wished he could say he instantly plunged his tongue into her mouth with the confidence of a consummate seducer.

What he actually did was nearly jump out of his skin, then bleat a noise against her lips that sounded like a geriatric sheep had just had a terrible shock.

Rey’s lips caressed his for one fleeting, perfect second, and then she pulled away to look at him again. Her hazel eyes contained entire universes. “I love your books,” she told him, “and it took reading them for me to realize something else.” She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for battle, and Kylo braced himself for whatever terrible revelation was coming. “I love you, too,” she said.

The world dissolved around Kylo. His universe was comprised entirely of Rey and the words that had just fallen from her perfect lips. “You _what?”_ he asked. Loky Olos would have been appalled by his lack of suaveness, but Kylo Ren was quickly learning that life did not actually imitate art.

No, life was a thousand times messier and more embarrassing—and infinitely better.

“I love you,” Rey repeated, running her fingers through his hair. She tugged at the hand he still held tightly to his chest, and when he let go, she plunged both hands into his hair and pulled him towards her.

She kissed him with open-mouthed enthusiasm, her tongue pressing inside his lips. Kylo kissed her back, meeting her tongue with his own, moaning into her sweet mouth. Now that his hands were free, he realized he could touch her— _oh, fuck, he could touch her —_so he started by daringly cradling her cheeks.

Nothing Kylo had ever experienced had prepared him for this. Rey tasted like sunlight and sweat and a thousand impossible dreams. Her skin was soft and warm, her lips like silk against his own. And the sounds she made—soft, breathy moans—were better than any symphony ever written.

Kylo was about to come in his pants, so he pulled away reluctantly, pressing his forehead against hers. “Rey, if you mean that—”

“I do. I really, really do.”

He groaned and kissed her again, hard and fast. “If you’re R… shit.” He stiffened, suddenly remembering everything they’d written to one another. “Oh, kriff, you think I’m using you for a power grab—”

Rey squeezed his hair at the roots, making his cock twitch. “I don’t,” she said, fixing him with a fierce stare. “Not anymore. Ben, your letters… They were so beautiful. I had no idea you thought about me that way.”

“Rey.” He breathed her name like a prayer. “I’ve loved you for so long, I can hardly remember what life was like before you. Your name is written on my heart.”

She was smiling again, radiant as the sun. “And you’ll leave the First Order for me?”

He laughed despite himself. “Rey, the First Order just forcibly ejected me. But yes.” He stole another kiss. “I would do anything for you.”

#

They couldn’t keep making out in a public park—a police citation for “lewd and immoral conduct” alerted them to that fact—so Rey dragged Kylo towards the spaceport. “We’re finding a hotel,” she said. “A nice one,” she clarified when he pointed at a seedy motel lit up in lurid pink neon.

He wasn’t sure he cared about quality over immediacy, but the sign of The Lunar Love Lair highlighted a few other downsides. “Oh, that wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said. “They only rent by the hour.” He frowned. “And what does it mean, tentacles available upon request?”

Rey laughed. “You’re the romance novelist, Ben. You tell me.”

He thought about it, and then— “Oh!” More questions immediately cascaded through his brain and out his mouth. “Are the tentacles attached to someone? Do they move? What about the suckers? How many tentacles at once, and where do they go? Do people genuinely like that?” He hadn’t written any tentacles into his books, but most of his sexual experience had come from a compulsive study of romance novels and anatomy textbooks, supplemented by a rigorous porn-watching routine. Suddenly panicked, he turned wide eyes on Rey. “Is that something you want? I don’t know where to find a tentacle, but I’ll figure it out—”

“Ben.” Rey was laughing hysterically now. “No, I don’t want any tentacles. Just you.”

 _Just you_. Kylo couldn’t stop smiling. His cheeks hurt. Did smiling always hurt, or was it just because he wasn’t used to it? “It doesn’t seem real,” he confessed. “None of this seems real.”

She squeezed his hand. “It is surreal,” she agreed. “I mean, I’ve been masturbating to fantasies of you pretty much constantly, but I never thought things would actually work between us, considering the whole ‘sworn enemies’ thing—what?”

Kylo had stopped dead in his tracks. “You…” He cleared his throat. “Masturbating?” The word came out as an inquisitive sort of squeak.

Rey nodded. “Oh, constantly. Every time I read your books, I ended up imagining you. It was very distracting.”

“That’s…” Words failed Kylo as lewd images cascaded through his head. Rey with her hand between her legs. Rey moaning his name. Rey orgasming while she read his books. His erection fought a valiant war against the fabric of his pink scrubs, attempting to batter its way to glory—glory being the soft, warm woman standing only a foot away. “Wow.”

She glanced down, and her eyes widened. “'Wow' is right,” she said reverently. “I thought all that stuff in your books was an exaggeration, but I guess not. Are you sure that’s not your lightsaber hilt?”

His chest puffed up. She could obviously see the lightsaber strapped to his belt, but he appreciated the comparison.

“Seriously,” she continued, still staring. “Are you half-Twi’lek? That thing probably has its own gravitational field. It would intimidate a giant space slug. In an arm-wrestling match with a rathtar, it would win.”

Kylo’s cheeks burned, and he didn’t need a mirror to know that the tips of his ears were bright red. “Come on,” he said, nudging her onwards. “You can study it in person at the hotel.”

He could hardly believe his own daring in saying such a thing, but Rey just grinned at the raunchy promise and skipped towards the hangar. Holy fucking Force, this was really happening. Rey had held his hand and kissed him and now she wanted to go to a hotel and look at his dick and—

Kylo’s internal monologue devolved into high-pitched, excited screaming.

“This one’s me,” Rey said, approaching a precariously-parked X-wing. “You’ll have to squeeze in behind me in the pilot’s seat, but I think we can fit.”

He squinted at a decal on the side, just fore of the wing. A shocked-looking face had been drawn inside a brown circle, and the caricature was giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Above the face, bold letters spelled out _Orbital Ring Butt Cream_. Below the logo was a tagline: _We take the ‘eek’ out of ‘anal leakage.’_

Rey noticed the direction of his stare, then winced. “Oh, yeah. We, uh, needed a corporate sponsor.”

Kylo’s brows shot up incredulously. “And this is what you chose?”

“Hey,” she said defensively. “We don’t all have access to evil empire levels of money. And the ‘X-wings for O-rings’ campaign has been a rousing success.”

“Hm.” He sucked his lips between his teeth so he wouldn’t laugh in her face.

This day kept getting more and more surreal. First holding hands, then kissing, then smiling, and now he’d almost laughed? Next thing he knew, Kylo would be clicking his heels like the star of one of those old musical holovids he watched late at night when he was too drunk and sad for porn.

It was a very tight fit inside the cockpit, but Kylo didn’t mind, since Rey’s ass was pressed snugly against his erection. This was already better than anything that had ever happened to his penis. She handled the controls expertly, launching them through the moon’s artificial gravity field and into space.

Kylo wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder, content to let her take him anywhere, so long as he could still hold her.

They touched down an hour later on a forested moon that housed a wildlife reserve and a small town that catered to outdoors enthusiasts. Rey led Kylo to a rustic timber lodge and procured them a room, despite his protests that she shouldn’t pay. The Resistance was being funded by anal cream, for Force’s sake. There was no way she should be throwing around any amount of money.

“Do you have any credits hidden in those scrubs?” Rey asked when the alien at the reception desk bustled away to run her (falsified) information.

“Well, no, but once I access my accounts—”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Mr. First Order’s Most Wanted. I bet that’s going to work out really well.”

“I’m just saying,” he said in quiet tones, not wanting to draw attention, “we can use a mind trick on him—”

“No.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “Absolutely not. You’re halfway redeemed already, B.S. Kysses, and I intend to complete the process with my pussy. So you can either keep arguing, or you can shut the fuck up and let me pay so we can get to our room.”

Kylo shut the fuck up.

He stayed silent throughout the excruciatingly long walk to their room at the top of the lodge. He stayed silent as Rey bustled around the cozy space, examining the decorations. He even stayed silent as she bounced on the enormous bed, testing its resiliency, although his knuckles cracked with how hard he was fisting his hands at his sides.

She looked up at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

Was this a trap? Maybe it was a trap. Kylo had no idea. He cleared his throat. “You said to shut the fuck up, so I did, because I would really, really like to see your pussy, but I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and then the most beautiful smile bloomed on her face, and Kylo almost wrote a sonnet right then and there. “Please talk to me,” she said, holding out her arms. “And please join me on this bed and kiss me and touch me and tell me everything you’ve ever wanted to do to me, and then please do all those things to me.”

Kylo didn’t have to be asked twice.

He pounced on her like a tusk cat on the hunt, settling between her legs as he kissed her furiously. The words that had been stoppered up in his soul poured out between frantic kisses, falling against her lips like rain. 

“I’ve imagined this so many times, Rey.”

“You’re so beautiful and strong and amazing.”

“I don’t really know what hope feels like, but I think I can taste it on your lips.”

In exchange, she moaned and writhed beneath him, rubbing her hips against him and tangling her arms around his neck. Her fingers sank into his hair, then trailed down his spine, then gripped his buttocks so assertively that Kylo yelped against her lips.

“Ben,” she breathed against his mouth. “I want to be naked with you.”

Kylo shut his eyes and utilized a meditative breathing technique he hadn’t attempted since his time at Luke’s Jedi temple. His cock felt like a volcano about to explode, but he refused to give in to the powerful urge to orgasm. He hadn’t even touched her bare breasts yet, much less worshipped her pussy with his mouth, and he refused to let his inexperience prevent this from being the best sex of her life.

He slowly undressed her, starting with her arm wraps, then pulling away the light fabric that criss-crossed over her chest. A tight brown tank top was underneath, and he gulped as he saw her nipples protruding beneath the fabric.

He couldn’t help but wish he had some of his textbooks here with him now. _The Erogenous Zones of 750 Species (And How to Stimulate Them)_ would have helped him immensely at this moment, as would _The Politics of Pussy: Feminism and Female Pleasure._ He’d read them both countless times, but faced with Rey in leggings and a tight tank top, Kylo suddenly forgot everything he’d ever learned.

He trailed a finger over her chest, and Rey shivered when he brushed her nipple, so he focused on it, running his finger over the budded tip, then working up the courage to pinch it the way romance novels insisted women liked. She moaned and bucked her hips, which was encouraging, so he dipped down to suckle her other nipple as he kept playing with the first.

“Yes,” Rey gasped as he worked her tits the way Kyben Lore had once sucked Deirdrey’s tits. Kylo’s descriptions had been largely theoretical, based only on what he’d read and watched—which was _a lot —_and he was pleased to note that Rey responded just as enthusiastically as Deirdrey had.

“You taste like starlight and passion,” he growled against her breast.

There was a pause, and then Rey burst into laughter. “Ben, you can’t just quote your books!”

He looked up at her, suddenly terrified that he was doing everything wrong. “I can’t?”

“No.” She stroked his cheek, smiling down at him. “I want to hear what _you_ have to say, not what Kyben Lore or Loky Olos or Dirk Rockwell or any of the others would say. I want you to say and do whatever Ben Solo would say and do.”

“About that.” He buried his face against her sternum, too mortified to look her in the eye for this confession. “I’m… not really sure. I’m a virgin.”

She was silent for a long moment, and then her hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up at her. Thankfully, she didn’t appear horrified or condemning, just sweet and understanding. “You are? Then how did you know enough to write all those sex scenes?”

His cheeks burned. “Research. Lots and lots of… research.”

“What kind of research?”

If spontaneous human combustion was a real phenomenon, Kylo thought he might be an excellent candidate for it at that moment. “Pornography,” he admitted. “And romance novels. And, uh, anatomy textbooks.” Copious, nigh-gluttonous amounts of all three. He probably had enough to start a museum collection, although what the exhibit would be titled, he had no idea. _The Aspirations of a Lonely Man_ , maybe, or _A Beginner’s Guide to Jerking Off_.

“Oh.” Her brow furrowed. “Well. This is awkward.”

“It is?” Kylo had never understood the idiom of someone’s heart being in their throat, but he felt it now. His pulse raced so hard he might faint, and he was about to choke on abject terror.

“I thought you were a sex expert.” Rey’s hazel eyes were wide and luminous, and she didn’t look like she was upset with him, but Kylo still felt distressed at the idea of disappointing her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You probably expected someone with perfect technique.”

“No! No, that’s not it at all.” She brushed his hair off his forehead. “I just… I haven’t done this, either.”

“Yeah?” Kylo perked up at the information. Not because he would have judged Rey for having had multiple sexual partners— _The Politics of Pussy_ was very adamant that that kind of thinking was outdated patriarchal bullshit—but because it was encouraging to know she was as new to this as he was. They could learn together. “Then let’s try to figure it out.”

He stripped off her top and was promptly gobsmacked by the sight of her beautiful breasts. They were small and round, topped by rosy nipples. Kylo dedicated himself to learning everything about the taste and feel of those breasts, attacking them with an enthusiasm that would have astounded even Krespuckle the Ever-Hungry.

He kissed down to her navel, then fumbled with the waistband of her leggings. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up at Rey’s flushed face.

“Yeah.” She shifted, nudging her hips up until her soft lower belly brushed his chin. “In your books, your characters are, um, really into cunnilingus. Is that…?”

Every spare piece of furniture in the room levitated as Kylo’s excitement spun through the Force. “Is that what?” he prompted, pressing a kiss just above her waistband.

Rey turned bright red. “Is that something you’re interested in? Because I think I’d like it—”

“YesyesyesohmyForceyes,” he said all in a rush. He scooted back to kneel between her legs as he stripped her leggings off, tossing them into the corner with her socks. “I’ve fantasized about eating you out every single day since I first saw you. Multiple times a day, really. It’s my favorite fucking thing to imagine—just licking you until you scream.”

Rey moaned and rocked her hips, and Kylo was thrilled to see a damp patch at the crotch of her underwear. He slid the garment down her legs with trembling fingers, gasping in delight as he revealed the brown fluff of her pubic hair and the glistening pink lips below. “Oh, Rey.”

He settled between her legs, looping her calves over his shoulders, then breathed deeply and tried to look sensual and confident, even though he was abruptly petrified at the thought of actually putting all his research into practice. Had any of his textbooks mentioned the best technique to use? _Vaginas, Cloacas, and Other Interesting Holes_ had provided essential details about the structure of human female genitalia, but it hadn’t provided any information about how to actually start eating a woman out.

He stalled for time while he tried to figure out what to do. “Did you know most of the clitoris is internal? The glans and the hood are just the visible portion of it, but it can be stimulated through the vaginal wall, too.” He was babbling, and kriff, why couldn’t he remember anything about oral technique?

“That’s… interesting,” Rey said, looking down her body at him with a furrow between her brows.

Okay, the textbooks weren’t helping. He hastily flipped through his mental files, searching for information gleaned from pornography. _Lekku of Love_ was a classic, but he could only remember the part where the two Twi’lek females had rubbed each other with their head-tails. _Ass-Blasters from Anoat: Volume 8_ had involved some tongue action, but he was pretty sure the bounty hunter protagonist had gone straight for the booty, so to speak.

He stared at Rey’s beautiful, glorious pussy, paralyzed by indecision. She was right here, naked and waiting, and _fuckfuckfuck_ he had no idea what he was doing.

“Ben,” Rey said, propping herself up on her elbows. “Is everything okay?”

“The clitoris has 8,000 nerve endings,” he informed her in a cheery ‘science fact!’ voice. “That’s a lot!”

“Ben.” Rey reached down to stroke his cheek. “Why are you reciting facts about the clitoris instead of eating me out?”

“Just want you to be informed,” he said in a rather high pitch. “And, uh, I’m not really sure how to start.”

Rey chuckled. “I don’t think there are any rules. Just get in there.”

Easier said than done. Kylo traced the outline of her pussy with his finger, marveling at how soft and delicate her skin was. He nudged the tip of his finger inside a little and gasped when she immediately clenched around him.

“Ben.” Rey's voice was more strident this time. “Stop thinking about it. Just do it.”

When Rey gave him an order, he had no choice but to obey. Kylo took a deep breath, then dove in tongue-first.

 _Wow_ , was his first thought as her taste burst over his tongue. _That was not what I expected_. He liked it, though. Really, really liked it. He gave a few experimental licks, then decided to just start kissing her. He used his lips, tongue, and even a little bit of teeth as he explored her. Rey moaned and arched in pleasure, and Kylo realized he was actually good at this. He preened at the thought. He was probably even a prodigy, which made sense. Kylo excelled at anything he attempted, so long as it didn’t involve public speaking, tolerance, patience, handicrafts, diplomacy, meditation, or forming real human connections.

Licking her clit provoked a miraculous and noisy reaction, so he focused on that spot. Emboldened by her gasping curses and the wetness of her body, he slid two fingers inside her. Here, the anatomy textbooks helped, and he curled his fingers to stroke the spot where he could best stimulate the hidden part of her clitoris.

“Ben!” Rey’s hands speared into his hair, and she held him tight against her pussy as she writhed. He couldn’t breathe, but air was overrated, anyway. After a year of fantasies, he was finally giving Rey pleasure, and Kylo was so kriffing thrilled.

Rey orgasmed with a shriek, her body clenching around his fingers as she nearly ripped the hair from his head. She came down with a series of shuddering sighs, her thighs quivering around his ears, and Kylo restrained the urge to pump his fist in triumph. He grinned up at her instead. “Good?”

“Uunghh,” she said, looking glassy-eyed and overwhelmed. She released his hair, then reached out as if beckoning him into her arms. “C’mere.”

Kylo clambered over her with more enthusiasm than grace, settling his hips between her legs as he peppered her face with kisses. “That was amazing,” he told Rey. “Thank you so much.”

She laughed breathlessly. “You’re the one who made me see stars. Thank _you_.” She tugged at the collar of his scrubs. “Can you take your clothes off?”

Kylo leapt off the bed and stripped his clothes off, wincing when he realized he’d had his lightsaber clipped to his belt this whole time. He tossed the lot on the floor and stood in front of Rey naked, puffing up his chest with pride as she gaped at his penis.

“Wow,” she said. “It’s even better in the flesh.”

“It’ll be even better in _your_ flesh,” he said in an attempt at rakish charm, then immediately cringed at how stupid he sounded.

Rey just smiled and held her arms out to him again. “Come here and show me.”

He settled between her thighs, and it was so much more amazing now that they were both naked. She was soft and warm beneath him, and as she cradled his hips between her legs, her pussy brushed against his erection.

He was naked. With Rey. About to have sex. With Rey.

He was also mere seconds from coming prematurely from sheer excitement. On Rey.

He struggled against the urge, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. When the overwhelming compulsion to come all over her stomach had faded slightly, he positioned himself in place and got ready to experience the single greatest event in galactic history.

“Ready?” he asked. They’d had the safe sex conversation in the park while being frisked by the police, so Kylo already knew she had a contraceptive implant.

Rey nodded, looking up at him with utter trust. “Ready.”

Kylo eased inside her, and it was like the universe exploded into joyous light and every star in the sky joined in a bright chorus. She was so tight and wet and warm, and the way she accepted him inside her was more of a spiritual experience than anything he’d experienced during Force training.

He took it slowly, knowing his truly magnificent cock would be a lot for her to get used to. By the time he was fully seated inside her, Rey was gasping and clutching at his shoulders, rocking her hips for more stimulation.

Kylo pulled out and pushed back in, and kriff, the movement was so smooth. He’d never experienced anything like it. “I don’t have to lubricate with my tears anymore,” he said wonderingly.

Rey made a choked sound and buried her head in his shoulder. “That’s, uh, good to hear, Ben.”

He rocked over her, and he didn’t have any practical experience with this, but somehow he knew what to do. Some primal ancestral knowledge guided his motions. Of course, his motions were basically _in-out, in-out_ , but still—he had a feeling he was a prodigy at this, too, considering the way Rey was moaning and holding him close.

“I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he murmured in her ear, needing her to know the depths of his affection. “I could do this forever, and it still wouldn’t be long enough. I could write a million words and not capture the perfection of you beneath me.” He was sweating all over her—the drops were spattering on her cheeks, shining like diamonds against her golden skin.

Wait, no, those were definitely tears.

“If I believed in the concept of heaven, it would be thrusting my cock inside you,” he said, warming up to this speech of devotion, even as his tears continued falling. “You’re wetter than an ocean. I could drown in you, and even if the leviathans consumed my flesh and spat out my bones, I would be the most blissful skeleton in the sea.”

Rey blinked up at him, looking alarmed. “Uh, wow. That’s—”

“I’m trying dirty talk,” he informed her.

“Huh.” She chewed her lip. “Well, maybe you should try telling me that I feel good. Or talk about how hard I make you or something.”

“You make me harder than Mandalorian iron,” he told her instantly. “And you’re taking me so well, sucking me in greedily, like a Sarlacc consuming its prey—”

“Oh, Ben,” she interrupted loudly. “Oh, R’iia, you’re so big and hard. I love it when you fuck me.”

“I love it, too,” he responded, pressing his lips against her ear. “I love it more than I ever loved cutting down my enemies—”

She moaned loudly, drowning him out again. This dirty talk was really affecting her—he must be a prodigy at that, too! He tried to tell her more sexy things, but she just kept moaning and talking over him, so eventually he gave in and just listened to the gorgeous noises falling from her lips.

Besides, he had something else to focus on, and that was the orgasm barreling towards him as aggressively as the Millennium Falcon attempting the Kessel Run. In all his books, the heroes and heroines orgasmed simultaneously, but now that he was actually experiencing sex, he realized it required precise choreography and timing.

 _The Clit Crusaders of Coruscant: Volume 69_ supported all the data in Kylo’s textbooks—Rey’s clit was definitely the place to focus on right now. He propped himself up a bit and moved a hand between them. Thrusting while stimulating her clit was a little like Force choking one enemy while decapitating another, because there was a definite rhythm that had to be learned when doing that sort of complex multitasking.

Thankfully, the extra focus helped him last the few crucial seconds needed to get Rey up to the peak again. She groaned and bucked against him, then came with a shout, her body shuddering violently. She bit down on his shoulder, and yep, that was it, Kylo was a goner. He shouted as he orgasmed in hard spurts. His feet were cramping and his limbs were tingling and the top of his head felt like it had been blown off, and holy shit, this was the best feeling in the universe.

Kylo gasped Rey’s name as the orgasm of a lifetime had its way with him. When he was finally spent, he collapsed on top of her.

“Mmph,” she said as his full body weight landed on her.

He stroked her sweaty hair away from her forehead. “I know,” he said with dazed awe. “That was amazing.”

“Mmph mmph.” Her lips moved against his shoulder as she attempted to say something—probably a rhapsodic compliment about his bedroom skills. The thought had him lifting off her just enough to let her speak. “You’re crushing me,” Rey gasped.

“Oh!” Kylo rolled off her immediately, feeling tremendously guilty as she sucked in deep breaths. “Sorry.”

She smiled at him, then turned on her side to face him. He mirrored her position. It felt strangely intimate, after everything they’d done, but facing each other like this was a kind of closeness that made Kylo want to confess all his secrets to her.

“That was wonderful,” Rey said in a soft voice, and he wondered if she felt it, too—the almost holy sense of reverence blanketing the room and encouraging them to speak in whispers. “Was it like you imagined?”

“Better,” Kylo said. “So much better.” He winced thinking of some of the flowery, inaccurate descriptors he’d used in his prose. “It’s definitely going to affect my creative process.”

Rey smiled and shook her head. “You can’t get the writing out of your head, can you?”

Kylo considered the question seriously. “No,” he admitted. “At first it was just my lonely, convoluted way of expressing my love for you, but the more books I write, the more I realize that writing makes me…” He trailed off, his vocabulary insufficient to articulate how writing made him feel. “Well, it’s like how life feels, except I don’t hate it? Like I want to keep doing it because it makes me feel… warm? Or like maybe I have a heart murmur?” He shook his head. “It’s a very strange sensation.”

“Ben.” Rey bit her lip. “Are you trying to say writing makes you feel happy?”

“Oh.” He considered the word for a moment, then rolled it over his tongue. “Happy. Um… maybe? What does happiness feel like?”

“Oh, darling.” Rey cupped his cheek, and her eyes flooded with tears. “Happiness is like… being at peace, but also excited. Like you don’t want to be anywhere else but where you are, and you want to do whatever you’re doing over and over and over again, just because of how it makes you feel inside.”

Understanding bloomed all at once, like a tropical flower aiming its broad petals at the sun. Kylo _did_ know what happiness was, after all. “That’s you, Rey. Loving you makes me feel like that.”

Her outline grew blurry—oh, right, he was crying again, even though he couldn’t stop smiling. This was the kind of moment that could make a man believe in miracles, although the only divinity Kylo acknowledged was the goddess lying next to him.

Elsewhere in the galaxy, planets spun into oblivion, stars were born, and age-old mysteries were revealed, but there was no more astounding or essential truth than this:

Kylo Ren was in love, and he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD GRAVY writing funny smut is hard. I hope it was simultaneously sexy and hilarious??
> 
> Notes:
> 
> The Big Green Fish is canon, but the Snaggle-Toothed Pit of Eternal Digestion is my own invention.
> 
> That was the only note. ANYWAY, this chapter is fucking massive, and I would love to know your thoughts about it. Please please please comment and share your feelings! I love you all very much for even reading this nonsense.


	14. Chapter 14

  _One year later_

The galaxy was a very different place now that the First Order had been defeated, courtesy of the Resistance, two powerful—and hopelessly infatuated—Force users, and a staggering amount of bureaucratic incompetence on the First Order’s part. The return of Palpatine was startling, for sure, but even a body-hopping immortal Sith Lord was no match for a recently- and well-laid Ben Solo.

Rey watched Ben fondly from the back of a bookstore in Theed, which was the latest stop on B.S. Kysses’s first book tour. He’d gone public with his identity during the final battle of the war, which had caused Palpatine to laugh so hard that he hadn’t even noticed Ben swinging for his head.

The revelation that the former Supreme Leader of the galaxy wrote steamy, feminist erotica had been met with shock and confusion at first, but his readers quickly adapted, and a new influx of fans had made B.S. Kysses a household name. He even had fans in the prison where high-ranking members of the First Order were incarcerated, although Hux still refused to read “anything that sex-positive.”

The line for the signing snaked out the door. Rey rested her hand on her lightsaber as she scanned the crowd for any signs of danger. She took her role as Ben’s bodyguard seriously, although so far the biggest threat had come from a lovesick Glymphid in Coruscant who had vaulted over the signing table, screaming for B.S. to autograph her nude body. Rey had refrained from chopping the orange-eyed alien in half, although she had gotten in a solid punch before security dragged the Glymphid away.

“Mine!” she wanted to scream every time a fan got too flirty or handsy, but luckily, Ben was completely oblivious to most of the sexual attention he received. The adorably tragic man could still barely believe Rey was attracted to him, even though she spent a huge amount of her free time trying to convince him of that fact.

A blue-trunked Ortolan shoved his copy of _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ across the table. Ben signed the title page with a flourish, dotting the page with several hearts. The long black feather that topped his newest calligraphy pen bobbed with every stroke. It matched his all-black attire and the sign advertising the event: _B.S. Kysses, Supreme Leader of Romance._

C-3PO had voiced vehement opposition to the color scheme during Ben’s first tour stop at the Resistance base. “The color black is associated with death in 79.3% of galactic cultures,” the droid had said with his trademark fussy outrage. “Pink would be a better choice, as it is associated with death in only 8.5% of galactic cultures.”

Ben had been adamant about wearing black—Rey was the only one who knew about the pair of pink scrubs he wore around the house—and in the end, he’d been right. His fans loved his funereal aesthetic, and the slightly macabre B.S. Kysses merchandise sold well. The crowd at this signing was full of people wearing black T-shirts and buttons that quoted his books: “Love is Suffering,” “With Tears I Anoint Our Passion,” and “The Only Thing More Final Than Death Is Love.”

Rey’s favorite button was pinned to her tunic, over her heart. It was one-of-a-kind and said, “All My Love, B.S. Kysses.” It was a constant reminder that this glorious, creative man was _hers_.

Ben was having an intent discussion with a little girl, so Rey moved closer, curious what they were talking about. The kid seemed a little young for the explicit content in the B.S. Kysses books, but girls had to start learning about pleasure and enthusiastic consent somewhere.

“My parents don’t understand,” the little girl was saying in a serious voice. She was a fierce-looking thing with tangled red hair and dirt-smudged cheeks. “They say I should behave like a proper lady.”

“And what do you want?” Ben asked.

Her chin jutted up. “I want to rule the galaxy. Like you did.”

Rey suppressed a chuckle at the outrageous statement, but Ben just nodded thoughtfully. “And what will you do with the galaxy once you rule it?”

The girl gave him a condescending look, as if the answer should be obvious. “I’ll make everyone do what I want, of course. I’ll punish my enemies and live on a great big spaceship and wear a cloak and order people around.”

“Definitely get a cloak—a defined aesthetic helps with brand recognition.” Ben tapped his pen against his mouth, the feather brushing his lips. “It’s good to have a mentor to teach you how to subjugate people, but you’ll have to make sure they don’t try to control you, too, which means finding a way to make your mentor fear you. It’ll be good practice for later, when you need the entire galaxy to fear you.”

Wait, what? Rey frowned, concerned about the direction this conversation was going in.

Ben bent over the girl’s book and started scribbling on the title page below his signature, and Rey peered over the girl’s shoulder to see what he was writing.

_Galactic Tyrant To-Do List_

_1\. Buy a cloak_

_2\. Find a mentor_

_3\. Make people fear you_

“Uh, Ben?” Rey laughed nervously. “Is this a good lesson to be teaching the next generation?”

He ignored the protest. “Fear and love are the two most effective emotions to use to manipulate people,” he told the girl, “but it’s a lot harder to keep people in line with love. Definitely start by learning how to fight. You don’t have to rule the galaxy to start punishing your enemies.”

_4\. Learn to fight_

The little girl nodded, looking fascinated.

“Be very careful who you surround yourself with,” Ben continued. “The more power you have, the fewer people you can trust. You should assume everyone is out to get you, even your friends and family.”

_5\. Trust no one_

“You’ll definitely have to kill some people,” he continued, “so it’s a good time to start thinking about—”

All right, that was enough. Rey interjected in a cheery voice: “Ha ha, very funny! You’re joking, right, _Ben?_ ”

His brow furrowed as he looked up at her, the pen frozen midway through the next item:

_6\. Imagine how you would murde—_

“...No?” He looked utterly baffled. “I would never make fun of a child’s dreams.”

Rey turned to the little girl. “What B.S. Kysses hasn’t told you yet is that it’s really lonely ruling the galaxy if you choose to make people fear you. Why don’t you try love, instead?”

“I was getting to that item,” Ben said testily, stabbing his feathered pen at the page:

_7\. Prepare to be lonely._

The tiny, bloodthirsty child glared at Rey with an expression that reminded her a little too much of an unredeemed Kylo Ren, and Rey cast about the room for help. Thankfully, a short, familiar figure had just entered the shop. “General Organa!” Rey called, waving the older woman over. “There’s a girl here who would love to learn more about politics.”

A few minutes later, Leia had taken charge of the situation, steering the little girl away to have a private chat about the responsible use of power.

Ben frowned at Rey. “Why did you do that? I was trying to help her.”

“Oh?” Rey crossed her arms and glared right back at him. “And in twenty years, when she’s ruling over all of us with an iron fist, are you going to be glad you helped?”

“Obviously. I’ll be on her good side.”

Rey snorted at that, amused despite herself. “You’re a ridiculous man, you know that?”

“Yes.” Ben looked over towards where Leia was showing the girl a textbook on diplomacy, then winced. “Does my mother _have_ to show up to every signing?”

“She’s proud of you.” Rey bit her lip, unable to avoid teasing him. “She was rhapsodic about your descriptions of genitalia and your love of the female orgasm even before she realized you were B.S. Kysses.” Leia had confirmed that she’d recognized Ben's calligraphy on Rey’s handwritten draft of _The Criminal’s Forbidden Desire_ , but after a brief period of shock, she’d felt nothing but pride about Ben’s writing career.

“Stop.” Ben covered his eyes with his hand. “I don’t want to hear about that infernal book club.”

“You should be flattered! She isn’t a woman to give out unwarranted praise, and if she said your depictions of cunnilingus are both ‘copious’ and ‘masterful,’ you know she means it—”

Ben thunked his head against the table. “No.” Another thunk. “No. No. No.”

Rey was having a very hard time keeping her laughter contained. “You should hear her brag about you. ‘My son the romance novelist, the galaxy’s most enthusiastic champion of female pleasure.’” Ben groaned in protest, but Rey was merciless. “She’s so excited you have a hobby that isn’t murdering people. Well, you’re still murdering my pussy, metaphorically speaking, which I’m sure she can guess based on the extremely detailed descriptions in chapters 12, 13, 16, 19, 21, 23, 25, 28, 30, 32, and 35 of _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ —”

He launched out of his chair, his cheeks burning bright red. “I’m going now.” He turned on his heel and practically ran away, leaving Rey giggling hysterically behind him.

Oh, that strange, adorable man. Rey sighed, already wishing this event was over so he could murder her pussy a little more.

#

She finally got Ben to herself at the end of the day. The crowd had dispersed, including Leia, who was already plotting what internships she was going to help the young aspiring dictator get in ten years. The bookstore owner tallied sales at the front desk while Ben and Rey boxed up the remaining merchandise.

“Did you have fun?” Rey asked as she folded a sweater that declared: “I Live, Therefore I Love. I Love, Therefore I Hurt.”

Ben stretched, shaking his pen hand out. “I’m not sure I understand precisely what you mean by ‘fun,’ but it wasn’t an overly distressing exercise.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “You know what fun is, Ben.”

“Do I?” His voice was a low, sinful rumble. He moved behind her, resting his hands on her waist and tugging her against his broad chest.

Rey shivered in delight. “Fun is being complimented by adoring fans all day, then fucking me against a bookshelf.”

He leaned down to nibble her ear. “Well, then I definitely don’t know what fun is.”

She huffed in amusement. “You liar. You’ve fucked me against a bookshelf after every single signing.”

He hummed consideringly. “But not this one.” He started herding her towards the darkened back of the shop, and Rey giggled at his single-minded determination.

Halfway there, she stopped, remembering something. “Oh, wait, I have a gift for you.”

He crowded against her back, nipping her neck as he slid his fingers underneath the waistband of her leggings. “Is it in here?”

She laughed and turned in his arms, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him when he would have swooped in for a kiss. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

He huffed impatiently. “Fine. But you still have to teach me how to have fun afterwards.”

Rey retrieved a box from under the merchandise table and handed it to him. It was wrapped in black paper with a pretty pink bow on top.

Ben peered at the attached card. “What language is this?”

She slapped his arm. “You know very well it’s Galactic Standard.”

“Are you sure?” He studied her messy scrawl more closely. “Maybe it’s a code.”

“Stop teasing me, you ass. You are perfectly capable of reading that.”

“And it’s a good thing, since you’re barely capable of writing it.” He chuckled when she smacked him again. “All right, all right. It says, ‘Dear B.S. Kysses, here is a gift from your number one fan. I can’t wait for the rest of our story.’” He tore open the paper, and his eyes widened when he beheld the Bantha-leather journal inside. He traced his fingers over the soft cover reverently, then let out a little cry of joy when he reached the pornographic lock. “How?” he asked, turning an ecstatic gaze on her. “I thought it was lost on the Finalizer.”

“It was, sadly. This is a new one.” Rey had listened to Ben wax rhapsodic about his lost journal countless times, and while the idea of him inspecting the lock for anatomical correctness had been hilarious at first, she’d also found it terribly sweet. She’d never met anyone who championed female pleasure so enthusiastically.

He slipped the tiny phallus in and out of the vagina lock several times. “You’re right—the genitalia do look slightly different.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Rey bit her lip, excited for his reaction when she told him exactly why the journal was so unique. “I had the lock modeled after us.”

He gasped, and his eyes snapped up to hers. “What?”

“Remember when I asked you to let me make a holographic rendering of your erect cock for my personal viewing pleasure?” Rey grinned at the memory of that raunchy evening. “Well, I made a rendering of my pussy, too. That lock is us in miniature.”

The artisan had been less than enthused about the commission— _I know Kylo Ren fucked over the galaxy, but do I really have to commemorate his dick?_ —but Rey had plenty of credits, a reputation as a war hero, and an iffy understanding of appropriate public behavior. When she’d started swinging her lightsaber, the artisan had quickly agreed that the customer was always right.

Ben beamed like a child who had just been given the best birthday present imaginable. He clutched the journal tightly to his chest. “Thank you,” he said as tears trailed down his cheeks.

Rey wrapped her arms around him, the journal sandwiched between them. “Now you can write love stories in a book inspired by _our_ love story.”

He ducked down to kiss her. “It’s perfect. Although, to be clear, there is so much more to our love story than just sex.”

“There is,” Rey agreed. “But sex is definitely an important component. Speaking of which…” She waggled her eyebrows salaciously. “Want to go learn how to have fun?”

Ben nodded enthusiastically, although he took his time gently wrapping the journal up and placing it in a merchandise box. Once the task was completed, he ducked down and hoisted her over his shoulder, pinning her in place with a hand on her ass. She giggled as he strode towards the back of the shop.

“Not near the first editions, please!” the proprietor called desperately from the front of the store. The plea was followed by a long-suffering sigh. “I was warned,” he grumbled. “Those two are a menace to literature. They've left a trail of stained pages and broken spines all across the Mid Rim.”

Rey barely heard the complaint; she was too focused on Ben as he lowered her to her feet, letting her slide down the front of his body. She shivered in pleasure as his already-hard cock pressed against her belly.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured in her ear as his hand covered her breast. “Touching these sweet little tits. Fingering that pretty little pussy.”

Ben had, thankfully, gotten better at dirty talk since their first encounter.

“Putting my mouth all over you. Licking up your juices like a Gungan slurping up a mollusk.”

Well, sort of.

“Tonguing your succulent hole like—”

“Oh, Ben,” Rey interrupted, tugging his face towards hers. Her tongue muffled whatever he was saying, and then he gave up on speech and started kissing her back eagerly. Ben was easily distractible, thankfully, although Rey was certain more questionable declarations of devotion would be coming later.

It was one of the perils of being in love with a writer who was also an emotionally-stunted former megalomaniac. Ben still had a lot to learn about love and intimacy, but he was giving it his all. And it wasn’t like Rey was experienced, either, although she tended to pick up the nuances of human interaction more easily than Ben did.

He made quick work of her clothing, stripping her nude with a combination of his hands and the Force. Sometimes he tugged her leggings down just enough to fuck her from behind, but today, he apparently wanted to be thorough. Rey helped him shed his own clothes, sighing blissfully as she exposed his muscled chest.

“Like what you see?” he asked, flexing for her.

She licked his pectoral. “You’re delicious,” she said. “You taste better than a ration portion after weeks of starvation in the desert.” He groaned in appreciation, and Rey grinned: she’d been trying to sprinkle in more metaphors lately, since he liked them so much.

She dropped to her knees and abruptly wrapped her mouth around his dick. Ben choked and slammed his hands against the bookshelf, making several thick tomes topple to the ground. Rey eyed their leather covers and gilded pages, wondering if they had, in fact, chosen the shelf that housed the first editions for their tryst, then shrugged and decided she didn’t care. Ben’s cock was in her mouth, and he was making the sexiest little moans above her, and she would sacrifice all the books in this bookstore for more of him.

“Rey,” he breathed, sliding his fingers into her hair. His hips thrust with soft little jerks. “Fuck, you feel so good. It’s like I crash-landed my dick in an asteroid cave that ended up being an exogorth’s slimy throat.”

“No, please,” Rey said in alarm, but with his cock in her mouth, her protest sounded like “Nnnn pllth,” and Ben kept talking, blissfully unaware.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I talk dirty to you. Kriff, I could write an epic poem dedicated to your tongue.” His eyes widened, and he looked down at her with the excited expression that meant he’d been struck by inspiration. “Oh hot licker of cum, goddess of fellatio, take me deep into your greedy maw…”

Well, that was enough of that. Rey released him and shot to her feet, tugging him into a kiss to shut him up before her vagina shriveled up and died from sheer horror at the similes he found sexy. She loved him to distraction, but kriff, he was a weird man. “Finger me,” she whispered against his mouth. “And then fuck me.”

Ben obliged with enthusiasm, slipping his fingers inside her and crooking them expertly while his thumb danced over her clit. Between his extensive research and the incredible amount of practice he’d gotten over the past year, Ben was now a certified sex god. Literally: after a series of particularly mind-blowing orgasms, Rey had made him a _Galactic Sex God_ trophy from salvaged engine parts. Ben had cried when she’d given it to him, of course, and now it was proudly displayed on his writing desk.

Rey wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him while he touched her, lifting on her toes and hooking one leg around his hips. Sooner than ought to be humanly possible, she trembled and moaned as an orgasm ripped through her.

Ben hoisted her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him like a vine as he backed her against the bookshelf. More books tumbled to the ground as he lined himself up with her entrance and thrust inside hard enough to rattle the shelf.

“Oh, Shiraya,” a distressed voice said from the front of the store. “They found the rare books. Oh, why did I look, my _eyes_...”

Ben groaned loudly. “Kriff, Rey, you’re wetter than the swamps of Dagobah.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d compared her to, so Rey went with it. “And you’re hard and thick as a lightsaber hilt, Ben.”

“I’d duel you to orgasm any day,” he vowed as he started moving. He held her up with one arm beneath her ass and the other looped around her back, but Rey’s shoulders smacked into the shelves with each thrust. She embraced the slight flare of pain, loving how primal and intense it felt.

“More,” she gasped, tipping her head back. Ben’s lips latched onto her throat, and he trailed hot kisses over her skin. “Oh, I love this.”

“Me too,” he mumbled against her neck. “Love everything about it. Love you, love you so much—”

Rey knew from experience that if he got too carried away with the ‘I love you’s, he’d probably start crying about how lucky he felt and how baffled he was that she loved him in return, and while there was a time and place for that, it wasn’t against the shelves in a bookstore with the horrified owner only a room away. Later, at their hotel, she would kiss him tenderly and recite all the reasons he deserved to be loved, but right now, she needed to keep this filthy.

She scrambled for a poetic comparison he might appreciate. “Yes, Ben. Do me hard. Smash me like you smashed your Kylo Ren helmet.”

He groaned in her ear and really started hammering away, slamming her into the shelves as books tumbled around them and his unraveling Force powers made all the furniture in the room levitate. Rey’s pussy clenched around him, and Ben moaned in appreciation. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said. “Take it all. Clamp onto my dick like a mynock. Consume my flesh and make it your own.”

Rey made a strangled sound and tried desperately to shove all thoughts of mynocks out of her head. R’iia, could he have picked a grosser animal? She’d seen far too many over the years, their gooey, sucker-like mouths sealed against the windows of starships, and yes, there was something pornographic about the sight, but not in a good way.

Ben’s rhythm stuttered. “That was too far, wasn’t it?” He must have sensed some of her distress, and although Ben always went a little too far in his dirty talk, at least now he was aware that some images were really, really, _really_ too far.

Rey kissed him. “You’re perfect, my love. But maybe leave parasites out of your dirty talk?”

“Oh, of course!” He hoisted her higher against the shelves to get the best angle. “Besides, parasitic relationships are one-sided, and our is definitely mutual—”

“R’iia, I love your cock!” she exclaimed to get them back on track. “Take me hard, Ben. Show me where B.S. Kysses gets all that delicious smut from.”

He groaned and settled into a shelf-rattling rhythm again. Soon, they were both breathing too hard for proper speech. Rey shifted against him, needing just a little more pressure on her clit to orgasm, and Ben instantly picked up on the cue, shifting his hold so he could support her lower back while his hand worked between them, rubbing her clit.

Force, he really was a prodigy. Maybe it was time to make another trophy.

Tension coiled low and tight in Rey’s belly, and all of a sudden, she was _there_. “Oh!” She smacked her head against the bookshelf hard enough to leave a lump, but the pain didn’t matter, because pleasure was pulsing through her in delicious waves. She trembled in Ben’s arms, clinging to him for dear life as he wrecked her.

“Come for me, my muse, inspire me with your sweet, quivering flesh—” Ben broke off with a strangled cry, and then he was coming, too. He shouted, and the room was filled with thumps and clatters as their shared orgasms unleashed a maelstrom of Force power.

They stayed against the shelf for a while, breathing heavily and exchanging messy kisses. When Ben finally lowered Rey to her feet, she looked around and winced as she realized that, for the forty-third time, they’d absolutely decimated an independent bookstore. The toppled shelves lay in disorderly chaos, and the proprietor could be heard weeping loudly elsewhere in the building.

For the forty-third time, Ben and Rey used the Force to reassemble the furniture and put books back onto the shelves. They left their standard massive donation at the front desk, along with a beautifully calligraphed note, then walked out hand-in-hand.

_Dear (Hopefully Understanding) Bookseller,_

_Thank you for hosting the signing, and sorry about the sex-related destruction. I’m just catastrophically, euphorically, magnificently in love with the best woman in the galaxy, and that sort of passion cannot be contained._

_This should be enough credits to pay for any damage, but if not, please reach out for additional compensation. In addition to being a Galactic Sex God, I am very rich._

_Yours in Love and Bliss,_

_B.S. Kysses_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you like this chapter! Sorry for the slight delay--it's been a tough week.
> 
> In case the image of the mynock isn't gross enough, [this is what it looks like](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Mynock?file=Mynock.png). Yikes, George Lucas.
> 
> Only the epilogue to go! Writing this fic has been so fun, and I'm sad it's almost over.
> 
> As always, I love reading your comments! Please let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	15. Epilogue

_Benlo Renlo paced up and down a balcony overlooking a gorgeous lake. It was a sunny day, and the heady scent of flowers perfumed the air, but he was too stressed out to appreciate it._

_A sound came from behind him, and he spun, resisting the instinctive urge to attack whoever was foolish enough to surprise him. He wasn’t the leader of the First Order anymore, which meant no more thoughtless violence. Sort of. There had been that impulsive maiming in the grocery store the other day... and the speeder bike road rage incident... and, oh yeah, he had punched that child at the beach while Reya was away buying ice cream... But seriously, what kind of parents let their children sneak up on paranoid former dictators?_

_Look, Benlo was trying, all right?_

_The droid approaching him didn’t deserve to be chopped apart, though. Reya would be distressed at the loss of a friend (since she insisted on befriending all manner of things that arguably weren’t capable of reciprocating her affection), and besides that, she would be steamed if Benlo had to inform her the wedding was canceled because he’d killed the officiant._

_“Is Reya coming soon?” he asked the droid anxiously. He couldn’t wait to see the love of his life in her wedding dress._

Rey sighed, already getting misty-eyed as she read the epilogue to _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_. She was on her thirty-ninth reread of the book, and she never failed to melt for Benlo Renlo. Of course, he was the hero closest to Ben in terms of character, background, and name, so it made sense that he would be her favorite.

The author himself sat across from her in the lounge of the Millennium Falcon, frowning at something he was scribbling in his notebook. Rey didn’t want to interrupt his creative process, but she was curious what had required so much crossing out. The page was half-ink at this point. “Is that a new story?” she asked.

He jumped, as if he’d gotten so caught up in his work that he’d forgotten she was there. Then he beamed at her, that special, goofy grin only Rey ever got to see. B.S. Kysses might be a solemn artiste, but Ben Solo was a man in love, and he never tempered his displays of affection.

Ben’s enthusiasm for Rey wasn’t always so chaste or private, though, and their more public displays had alarmed and dismayed countless booksellers and police officers over the year-and-a-half they’d been together, but Rey couldn’t get enough. She’d grown up starved for love, and Ben was determined to make up for that lack. He was a one-man love army who wouldn’t let anything so silly as “boundaries” or “rationality” or “laws” get in the way of his campaign to keep her heart.

“It’s a preface for the special edition,” he said. “And it needs to be perfect.”

 _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ had sold so well that Ben’s publisher had commissioned a collector’s edition, complete with illustrations, hand-calligraphed chapter headings, and bonus content. Rey had already seen some of the material—the lithographs of the sex scenes were _very_ detailed, and the characters bore a shocking resemblance to her and Ben—but this was the first she was hearing about a preface. “What are you going to say?”

He tapped his favorite calligraphy pen against the table. It had been a gift from Rey upon completion of the book tour, and the gold barrel was shaped like a phallus, with the ink stored in the testicles. “I’m not going to tell you,” he said with a smirk. “You can read it when the book comes out.”

“But that’s way too long,” she whined. “Can’t you tell me now? Please? Please? Please?”

He shook his head and adopted a faux-stern look. “I will not compromise on matters of high art.”

She sighed. “Fine. Just know that I’m dying of curiosity.”

He shut the book and carefully lined the cock-pen up next to it. Then, to Rey’s delight, he dropped to his knees in front of her and started tugging her leggings down. “I’ll make it up to you, my muse. One lick at a time, like a long-tongued temptor lizard luring in its prey...”

Temptors were native to Endor, and, if Rey remembered correctly, incredibly gross, with multiple eyes and mucus-covered flesh. Yep, that sounded about right for Ben’s dirty talk. “Eat me out,” she said, trying to reroute the conversation before his similes got worse. “Make love to me with your mouth.”

“I’m going to eat you like a starving rancor. I’m going to tear into this sweet pussy like a wampa devouring a tauntaun…”

Rey sighed. Well, it was worth a shot.

But then Ben’s mouth was on her, and Rey suddenly couldn’t care less what he compared her pussy to, so long as he kept doing _that_.

#

The collector’s edition of _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ was gorgeous, with a glossy black cover, gilt-edged pages, and art that put illuminated manuscripts to shame. Rey traced her fingers over the cover reverently. “This is incredible.”

They were picnicking in a Nabooan field after Ben had picked up a box of books from his publisher’s office in Theed. He was practically quivering with excitement as he watched her examine the book. “Read the preface, Rey. Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He’d been on edge for days, stalking around the Falcon muttering to himself and nearly ripping his hair out. Rey hadn’t seen him this nervous about a book launch before.

Rey opened the cover, flipping slowly through the front matter. Pull quotes from reviews filled the first few pages:

 _“_ The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find _is an achievement as monumental as Benlo Renlo’s throbbing dick. Sweeping romance, epic passion, and a compelling redemption arc will have readers cheering.” - Finn & Rose Tico, happily married couple and co-founders of The Taboo Naboo Romance Review _

_“I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, but love is not one of them. Thankfully, B.S. Kysses speaks the language of the human heart exceedingly well, although I feel obligated to point out that the odds of anyone orgasming as frequently as Reya does in this book are 8,456,982 to one.” - C-3PO, human-cyborg relations and romance correspondent for Droids & Dicks Magazine _

_“Astoundingly creative descriptions of genitalia.” - Poe Dameron, Co-President of Resistance Romance Publishing_

_“This book may be popular and critically acclaimed, but it is an irresponsible piece of sex-positive trash that encourages women to seek loving partners and perpetuates the myth of the female orgasm.” - (Former) General Armitage Hux, convicted war criminal_

_“I’m very proud of my son.” - General Leia Organa, Co-President of Resistance Romance Publishing_

Rey looked up at Ben. “You’re fine with your mother reviewing your books?”

He shrugged. “She won’t stop doing it in person, so I might as well capitalize on her enthusiasm.” He was still fidgeting, his fingers twining together with agitation. “Can you read faster?”

Rey smiled and turned the page. There was the dedication, which was slightly changed from the previous edition. _To Rey, the love of my life: You are everything. No words can fully express what you mean to me, but I’m going to try anyway._

“Aww.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet, Ben!”

He stared at her with wide, desperate eyes. “Are you at the preface yet?”

“No, the dedication.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

He looked like he was in agony; the preface must be good, if he was this worked up about it. She grinned and flipped past the calligraphed title page, arriving at last at the section in question, which, to Rey’s surprise, was a poem:

 _PREFACE_  
_or_  
_A Question From the Artist to His Muse_

 _My sweetest Rey, my love, my life, my light_  
_I live to kiss your cunt and make you slick_  
_Your vibrant presence makes my soul take flight_  
_I worship you with pen and tongue and dick_

 _When first we met, I kind of tortured you_  
_But you struck back and put me in my place_  
_That monster in a mask fell hard and true_  
_Enraptured by your strength and perfect face_

 _Before I met you, life was dark and numb_  
_Now I’m alive and hungry for your kiss_  
_My thoughts of you are wet with tears and cum_  
_And loving you provides the sweetest bliss_

 _My heart is yours, and you are all I see_  
_So please, my darling, will you marry me?_

Rey gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, then promptly started crying. She was sobbing too hard to manage a proper response, and through the watery veil of her tears, she could make out Ben’s look of dismay.

“Oh no,” he said. “I’m so sorry. The sonnet was too much, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, it’s—” She hiccuped. “Good, Ben. So, so good.” More gasping sobs, but she was grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. “You wonderful, won—” _hiccup_ “—derful man.”

“Oh, thank Force,” Ben said in a rush. He hauled her into his lap, the book smashed between their chests, then cradled her face, looking at her adoringly. “Will you marry me, Rey? Will you make me the happiest former dictator in the galaxy?”

Rey nodded, and more tears streamed down her cheeks. “I would be honored to marry you. I love you so much, Ben. And you’ve made me the happiest former scavenger in the galaxy.”

He kissed her then, hard and wet. Their lips tasted salty from a mix of her tears and his—he’d started crying the moment she’d said “I would be honored”—and Rey was still hiccuping violently, but it was the most perfect kiss in the entire history of the universe.

He toppled her over onto the blanket, and the book dug into Rey’s ribs, but she was too busy trying to consume Ben whole to care. Eventually, he fished it out from between them and tossed it aside.

Rey clambered on top of him, tearing his shirt off so violently it ripped. Her own clothing followed, and there was an interlude involving a lot of awkwardly-placed knees and elbows as they struggled to remove their trousers without breaking the kiss, but eventually, they were both naked. Rey straddled him, then sank down on top of his cock with one smooth stroke.

“You fill my body so well,” she whispered against his lips once he was all the way inside her. “Just like you fill my heart.”

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, clutching her tight. “You’re incredible, Rey. You have a soul like starlight, a heart wider than the galaxy, and an ass that won’t quit.”

She huffed a laugh against his lips. “Ben Solo, that is the best dirty talk you’ve managed yet.”

“I’m just getting started,” he promised, to Rey’s slight alarm. “I could visit all 3.2 million habitable systems in the galaxy and never find anything as beautiful as you. You make me believe in time travel, because when I look at you, I see the future.”

At the shockingly romantic dirty talk, Rey started crying again. She rocked over him slowly, savoring the heavy drag of him through her intimate flesh. “You’re my idea of paradise,” she told him.

His hands slid to her ass, guiding her in a smooth rolling motion as he thrust up into her. “There ought to be a picture of you in the dictionary under the entry for ‘perfection.’”

“And you would be my dictionary definition of ‘bliss.’”

“I never knew happiness until you.”

“I was so alone before you.”

“You’re not alone now.”

“Neither are you... my future husband.”

Ben whimpered and clutched her tighter, and through the Force bond, Rey felt a sparking wonder that matched her own. Words failed both of them after that. Rey worshipped his mouth with long, slow kisses, sliding her tongue past his lips as his body claimed hers below. He was holding her so tightly that his pubic bone rubbed deliciously against her clit with each thrust, and Rey rocked faster as pleasure wound through her.

Ben came with a loud shout, and Rey gasped and threw her head back as his orgasm triggered her own. Joy rippled through her on an endless wave as her heart, mind, and body all agreed that this was the best moment of her life.

When it was over, they lay side-by-side on the blanket, breathing heavily and staring up at the drifting clouds, their hands intertwined. Something poked Rey’s butt, and she looked down and winced as she realized that she was lying on top of a very bedraggled-looking copy of _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_.

She retrieved it and showed it to Ben. The pages were creased and stained with tears and… oh, no, apparently some of Ben’s cum had dribbled out of her onto the title page. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was such a gorgeous book, and I ruined it.”

Ben trailed a finger over the tear stains, then traced the edge of the cooling pool of semen. He didn’t look upset; in fact, he was grinning broadly. “It isn’t ruined. Not even a little bit. This is our personal edition, and the mingling of our cum and tears is a tribute to our love.”

She wrinkled her nose. “If you say so. Just don’t lend it out to anyone.”

“I would never,” he vowed. “But I am going to build a display case for it so we can look at it every day. Do you want to come on it again? Maybe I can get you to squirt this time.”

She hid her smile, wondering how many awkward dinner party conversations that display would spark in the future. “Well, if it’s already stained, we might as well…”

“My thoughts precisely.” He grinned rakishly at her. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

Rey snuggled into his side, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky.

“Oh!” Ben said after a few minutes of quiet cuddling. “I almost forgot to tell you about my new book idea.”

“Oooh. What is it?” Rey wasn’t sure anything could top _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Find_ , but Ben was an endless font of creativity, and he would undoubtedly blow her mind with his next project, too.

“I’m going to write a volume of poetry.” He stroked a loose strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “All different styles, and all dedicated to you.”

Rey started tearing up again. If that sonnet was anything to go by, a B.S. Kysses poetry book would absolutely ruin her. “That sounds amazing.”

“I’m working on the title now. I’m thinking _Lick, Laugh, Love: A Collection of Erotic Poetry from B.S. Kysses_.”

“It’s perfect.” Rey sighed dreamily. “Isn’t life amazing? A few years ago I was scavenging to survive on a lonely desert planet, and you were terrorizing the galaxy. Now we’re engaged and discussing your literary career, and it all started because your mother recommended _The Rebel’s Secret Passion_ to me.”

“That’s what romance is all about,” Ben said, kissing her forehead. “Any seemingly inconsequential moment can spark the adventure of a lifetime. Romance novels teach us to hope wildly, love unreservedly, and have sex as often as possible.”

“Speaking of which,” Rey said, waggling her eyebrows salaciously, “Are you ready to get some more cum on that book?”

“Absolutely. And I can definitely manage some tears, too.” He hummed as he slid a hand between her thighs. “Maybe I’ll write a spin-off. _The Scavenger’s Sweetest Squirt_.”

Rey laughed. “Only if you write another called _The Dictator’s Delicious Dong_.”

He grinned. “I think I can manage that.”

When they left the field hours later, the book was soaked through and smelled like a brothel. Its pages were creased, the spine was half-torn off, and the calligraphy was smudged with cum and tears.

In other words, it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes the saga of B.S. Kysses, Supreme Leader and romance novelist. Thanks again to [Reylo Fic Prompts](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1138460569827192834) for this fabulous prompt!
> 
> It felt right to end this story as it began: with copious amounts of cum and tears. I hope you enjoyed this fic! I'd love to hear from you in the comments—thoughts, reactions, favorite parts, etc.! Thank you so much for the support—I've been bad about responding to comments, but I've read them over and over again, and they always make me smile.
> 
> I'm a little sad that the epic tale of B.S. Kysses has come to a close, but I'm considering a spin-off featuring some of the poems from _Lick, Laugh, Love: A Collection of Erotic Poetry from B.S. Kysses_. Busting out my inner Shakespeare with some iambic pentameter was fun, and I'd love to explore other forms of poetry, too.
> 
> Thank you again for reading!
> 
> Yours in Love and Suffering,
> 
> Andabatae
> 
> \---
> 
> My other works, for those interested:
> 
> [They Don't Have A Word For What We Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17867792/chapters/42167327) \- canon-compliant, post-TLJ smutfest with lots of plot. Rated E, complete at 69 chapters.  
> [Rev Me Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977620/chapters/45061165) \- Modern AU set at a car show. Rated E, complete at 5 chapters.  
> [The Elusive Mating Dance of the Porgus Adorabilis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053454/chapters/45258604) \- Modern AU featuring playboy Kylo, ornithologist Rey, and some horny porgs. Rated E, complete at 8 chapters.  
> [Satan in a Three-Piece Suit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104316/chapters/45392914) \- Modern enemies-to-lovers AU set in an office. Rated E, WIP  
> [First Touch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448580) \- Smutty canonverse one-shot based on the TRoS trailer. Rated E.  
> [Nighttime Confessions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877201%22) \- Smutty canonverse one-shot based on the prompt "simultaneous flying, crying, and fucking." Rated E.  
> [The Interrogation Chair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066312) \- Smutty canonverse one-shot based on the interrogation scene in TFA. Rated E.  
> [show me what you can do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334899) \- Smutty canonverse one-shot featuring sparring, spanking, and mirror sex. Rated E.


End file.
